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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401774">Why Can't This Be Love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvel_ous_M/pseuds/Marvel_ous_M'>Marvel_ous_M</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- Some Powers, Discussion of anxiety attacks, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, James is a war vet, James is an amnesiac, M/M, Obadiah Stane sucks, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Slow Burn, The Stark legacy is a coffee chain, There's a dog and he's a good boy, This does NOT follow cannon, Tony is a baker, more tags to come, the author is bad at tagging</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 06:15:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>30,136</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401774</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvel_ous_M/pseuds/Marvel_ous_M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Found after being a prisoner of war, James returns to the states- minus his left arm and most of his memories. He sleeps in until 7 am, goes to therapy sessions once a week, takes care of his dog Winter, mails Steve letters or packages every so often, gets shitty cups of coffee at Stark Industries about daily, and other than that is perfectly content staying inside to binge-watch Netflix. What completely throws him off is his neighbor is crazy enough to think that 6 am is an okay time to wake up, and losing sleep is something James can't forgive. </p><p>Tony had always dreamt of creating pastries for Stark Industries. To him, coffee is the perfect accent to a pastry, not the other way around. When Howard was alive, he would use some of Tony's recipes, but was often more caught up in finding the perfect coffee blend to make Stark Industries the best on the market. After Howard died Obadiah took over the company, and immideately turned the chain into a coffee-only shop (save a few breakfast sandwiches). Without his position as executive recipe developer, Tony moved cross-country with his son, settling down in Brooklyn to do what he loves, create pastries. </p><p>When James and Tony meet, emotion, hillarity, and more ensues.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark, Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>113</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. It Only Takes a Taste</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey y'all! I'm finally back to writing after a lonnnng break. Since the virus has been keeping me inside, I decided to actually do something with all my new free time, and getting back into my old favorite hobby (writing!) seemed like the perfect way to do that! This is a random idea that came to me and I decided to write it out to see if it worked as well on paper as it does in my head, and I think it does! Please let me know what you think and where you may like this to go &lt;3 </p><p>A couple quick notes that will make sense as you're reading:<br/>There isn't a specific war going on, it's just a generic endless war, similar to the Cold War, but it doesn't have a large affect on the story, it's just really used as a plot device.<br/>Winter is NOT a service dog. He's just really good at helping James out emotionally and all that :) </p><p>I'm really not an expert on any of this stuff, I've just tried to do some research and get things right. However, if you notice anything that I may have written that's wrong or potentially offensive, please let me know and I'll change it right away. The last thing I want to do is offend anyone, and I completely respect everything that I'm writing about that I may not have the most knowledge about. </p><p>Finally, the work's title comes from Van Halen, and the chapter title is from Waitress. Other titles in the series will come from my songs on my Spotify :) </p><p>With all that said, please enjoy!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>James knew the moment he was woken up that this was going to be one of those days where he wished he had just stayed inside, in his half-unpacked apartment, buried under about five blankets watching Queer Eye rather than going out. He knew that his therapist, Sam, strongly advised against doing that, and that it was actually counterintuitive to his recovery, but still. He deserved to have self-care days sometimes, and the way his day started only enhanced his yearning to stay under his covers, where he was comfortable, rather than go out. </p>
<p>James could put up with shitty days, but today was an unprecedented amount of shitty already- and it was only 6 am. He was woken up by his neighbor who had decided to start the day with insanely loud Van Halen, which, okay, that wasn’t the worst because James didn’t hate his neighbor’s music taste, but waking up at six took away his extra hour of sleep, and that was something that James just couldn’t forgive. Hell, if someone had done that in the old sleeping quarters they would be royally fucked for at least a week- stuck with a million chores from the rest of the squad and used as the butt of jokes relentlessly. What could he say- James’ squad really liked sleep. But James wasn’t overseas- he was here- and his neighbor was in a technically different living space, so it would be inappropriate for James to complain- right? He was still struggling to figure out the exact way to act human again after he had been honorably discharged from the army following his supposed death as a P.o.W.</p>
<p>Apparently he was missing for two years, but James didn’t remember any of it. That being said, he had trouble remembering much of anything now. He had a sneaking suspicion that he dreamt almost every night about what happened to him, but by the time he woke up he couldn’t recall anything. Sometimes his body processed it as a nightmare and he would wake up in a cold sweat not knowing where he was, and other times his body just let him wake up normally. It was… strange, to say the least. All he knew about his time as a P.o.W was that he was captured, and when he was rescued by the members of his squad who had made it out, led by his best friend Steve, he was missing a left arm and almost all his memories from his life, save some small memories with Steve and his squad- little quirks about how Steve needed new charcoal about every three months and how his squad worshiped sleep- stuff like that. Every day he was able to remember more from before he was captured, but nothing from while he was in captivity. He could recall that he went through a lot of pain, and sometimes a random word, like daybreak or one, spoken purposefully with a strong tone, would make him flip the fuck out for no reason at all. Like full-on-panic-attack flip the fuck out… but that was it.</p>
<p>But he wasn’t with his squad- or Steve- anymore. They were still overseas, and he was just in his moderately-sized apartment in Brooklyn, waking up from his neighbor deciding six am was a good time to wake up for some godforsaken reason, and debating whether or not he should get out of bed and actually try to be a functioning member of society, or if he should continue his Netflix binge and stay all bed all day. But no, he couldn’t stay in bed all day. Not just because Sam said it wasn’t good for him, but because he had someone actually depending on him to get up and move around. James sighed, looking at the end of his bed, where Winter was asleep at his feet. Winter was his dog, a black corgi rescue missing his front left leg. After he had traveled back to the states and had been to a couple of therapy appointments, Sam asked James to adopt a dog to help him feel responsible and work harder to take care of himself- but mainly to help him get back out into the world. So James adopted Winter a couple of weeks ago, and that was that. Winter was a good addition to James’ life, since James hated going out since he got back to the states, and 90 percent of the time he would much rather just sit on his couch and watch movies since those were things he actually understood. The rest of the world was confusing and overwhelming, and sometimes random things would trigger a ton of memories about his old life and while it was good to remember… James was the first one to admit that it was pretty scary, too. He felt like he was living in someone else's life half the time, so much so that he had asked Steve to stop calling him “Bucky”, just because it didn’t mean anything to him… not like it did to Steve. Winter did help though, he helped a lot, as much as James hated to admit that he needed it.</p>
<p>He sighed, staring up at his ceiling. He would do what he needed to do today. He would take Winter on a walk, pick up his mail, drop off his weekly letter to Stevie (although this week it was a package with some fresh art supplies), get a disgusting overpriced coffee at Stark Industries, then come back to his apartment and make lunch. After convincing himself that it was easier to get it over with than it was to just lie in bed and loathe doing it, he got up and started getting ready. James started his day with a shower, as usual, which was followed by the other usual stuff- brushing his teeth, tying his hair into a bun, getting his prosthetic arm on, putting on clothes (today it was jeans and a black t-shirt), and getting Winter’s leash on. James’s hair had grown out over the two years he was missing, and apparently his captors didn’t like haircuts, so they just let it get almost shoulder-length, but James had grown to like it. I made him feel invisible, which was good because sometimes he really needed to feel invisible. </p>
<p>James sighed, looking down at Winter, who was sitting next to him by the front door and panting gently, tail wagging. “You ready to go face the world today?” Winter barked and wagged his tail more aggressively, pawing gently at the door. “Alright, buddy. Let’s get this early morning over with.” He grabbed his keys and his package to Steve, putting them into his backpack alongside the other contents of the bag- treats and bags for Winter’s walks, his wallet, a journal, a pen, a water bottle, and an emergency dose of his anxiety medication. He bit his lip, then slung the backpack over his shoulder, wrapping his right hand around Winter’s leash a couple times. “Alright. You lead the way, Wint.” He opened the door and chucked as Winter began pulling eagerly. “Ok, ok hold on.” James quickly locked the apartment from the inside, and shut the door, smiling at his crazy dog. </p>
<p>“Puppy!” James looked to his right, eyes widening when he saw two civilians- no, other people, not civilians- standing a couple of feet to his left. There was a guy about his age, maybe a little older judging by his crow's feet and the specks of grey in his hair, who was dressed in a pair of messy-looking jeans, a t-shirt with the ACDC logo on it, black converse, and aviator sunglasses. He had a large baking pan with foil over it and a backpack slung over his shoulder, and he was looking pretty impatient. The other individual was a kid- no, teenager- with large brown curls and a dopey smile on his face. He was wearing a blue sweatshirt with yellow lettering and a pair of jeans, and had a roughed up backpack over his shoulders. The kid was knelt down to Winter’s level, and James was about 99 percent sure that he was the one who had freaked out over his dog. </p>
<p>The issue was that James had never met any of his neighbors. He moved into the apartment in the middle of the day on a Tuesday, had no decorations outside his door, and was never seen coming out of the apartment, so he was pretty positive that no one knew he even lived in apartment 409. He tightened his grip on Winter’s leash, foot tapping suddenly with anxiety. He was hardly prepared for the two conversations he knew he would have today- one at the post office with the person at the counter and one at Stark Industries with the barista- he was definitely not prepared to talk to some really cute guy who was his neighbor and the guy’s son. </p>
<p>The man across from him sighed, checking his watch and shifting around the baking pan in his arms. “Kid- jesus, where are your manners? Sorry, he’s a stickler for dogs. I’m Tony, that’s Peter, my son. We live in 410, right next to you I’m guessing? We didn’t even know someone moved in there! I would shake your hand but ah-” he held up the baking sheet, waving it a little, “my hands are full.” He smiled wide, and James’s heart melted. This guy wasn’t just hot, he was fucking gorgeous. Not only that though, he was kind and seemed a little scatterbrained and- ugh. James couldn’t get a crush on his neighbor, that was weird and totally inappropriate...right? </p>
<p>“Hi. I’m uh- I’m James. You uh- like waking up early?” James bit his lip, dying on the inside. That was awful. He was the worst. God, his people skills needed a lot of work. He made a mental note to bring that up with Sam at their next appointment on Friday, along with his three nightmares this week (so far) and his discovery that the word freight-car triggered his panic attacks too. </p>
<p>“Oh- I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize someone had moved in next door, and well, Peter- he’s a deep sleeper, and he normally needs something to get him up in the morning, and honestly, I need it too because I’m awful before my coffee, but uh- yes. My bad.” Tony blushed, readjusting his baking sheet. James frowned, glancing at the sheet. He desperately wanted to know what the covered sheet contained, because all he knew was that it smelled so good. Like… cinnamon? And that made him want to learn more. </p>
<p>“What’s your dog's name? Can I pet him? I love corgis.” Peter looked up from the ground where he was still kneeling, grinning at Winter with a dopey smile. </p>
<p>“His name is Winter. And uh- sure?” James let the leash go a little loose so Peter could give Winter some attention. He smiled softly as the boy let Winter sniff his hand then went to town scratching behind Winter’s ears. Winter was loving every second, wagging his tail and kissing Peter’s hand. </p>
<p>“Here, uh- as a sorry-we-woke-you-up-and-welcome-to-the-complex gift. Take a couple, they’re a recipe I’ve been playing with, cinnamon roll cookies.” Tony held the baking sheet out for James, which, now uncovered, somehow smelled even more mouthwatering than before. </p>
<p>James blushed and cleared his throat, fiddling with the leash in his right hand. He slipped it from his whole hand to two of his fingers, grabbing a cookie once his hand was more freed up to do so. “Thanks.” </p>
<p>Tony smiled and covered the pan back up, kicking the ground. “Oh- yeah, it’s no problem. I’m just taking these to-” He checked his watch again, eyebrows raising above his sunglasses. “Oh shit, Peter, we’re gonna be late to getting you to the train for school, fuck.” He covered the baking sheet up again, shifting it around so he was holding it more securely. “It was nice to meet you, James. We’ll have to catch up later. Sorry about the rude awakening earlier.” He started down the hallway, texting into his phone with his open hand. “C’mon kid! If you’re late again the school is gonna kill me!” </p>
<p>Peter stood up, grinning. “Bye Mr. James. Thanks for letting me meet Winter- see you around!” He waved and ran to Tony’s side, and immediately began talking animatedly. </p>
<p>“Uh- bye?” James smirked, watching as they went down the hallway. So it wasn’t his best interaction, but James decided that it also wasn’t necessarily his worst. He sighed and took his backpack off, putting the cookie away in a ziplock bag for once he was back from errands. </p>
<p>The rest of his day was downhill from there. Winter was scared of other dogs, and most of the time that wasn’t a problem, and if it was, James was able to find a small area that was fairly empty to walk Winter, but today for some reason the whole park was packed with dogs being walked and Winter was hating the whole interaction. After they had done the bare minimum of a walk, James was able to escape the park situation, but then he had to venture into the post office where there was a line almost out the door and someone new working. The new employee wasn’t the problem though, she was doing a great job, but the multiple women yelling at her for easy-to-make mistakes was really what made James’ day a little more sour. </p>
<p>After almost an hour he was able to finally get his package sent out, and he basically spent the whole time at the counter apologizing for how stupid the women from earlier had been and telling the girl that she was doing a great job, but by the time he left the girl was dealing with another annoyed woman, so James felt like his praises of the girl’s hard work were basically worthless. He ended his excursion by stopping at Stark Industries- a chain coffee place that was basically on every corner- to try and get his regular order, a vanilla latte, but the place was packed and at that point, James wasn’t really up for putting up with more people, so instead he just made his way back to the apartment. After a quick stop at his mailbox only to find that it was empty, he finally got back to his apartment. </p>
<p>“Today kinda sucked, didn’t it, Wint? Sorry we were out so long buddy.” He leaned down once they were inside the apartment, scratching Winter behind his ears. He slipped off his backpack then unclipped Winter, smiling at his dog. “You made a friend though, which was pretty good.” Winter kissed James’ hand then sniffed at the backpack, nosing the front pocket. James frowned, opening the front pocket. “What’re you- oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me, buddy.” He took the plastic bag with the cookie from Tony out of the front pocket, smirking as he was reminded of the chance meeting with his attractive neighbor. He straightened up from the ground and made his way to the kitchen and put it on a plate, putting it in the microwave for 15 seconds. </p>
<p>James sighed, staring at the counter in the kitchen while the cookie warmed up. He felt exhausted and overwhelmed, which was how he often felt after his morning errands, especially if things were different from routine- and today was basically the definition of breaking routine. The microwave beeping pulled him out of his inner musings, startling him a bit. James glared at the microwave and pulled the plate out, setting it on the counter. He picked up the slightly-warmed cookie, which now smelled almost exactly like it did when he took it from Tony initially, and took a small bite. Almost instantly it melted in his mouth, and his senses were overpowered by the taste of cinnamon with a hint of sweet and it was just- it was potentially the most delicious thing he had ever eaten. </p>
<p>Now he really wished he had never gotten out of bed, because on top of his awful day he now most definitely had a raging crush on the guy next door. It only took a taste of his amazing personality and this- frankly outstanding- cookie and he was head over heels.</p>
<p>Fuck.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Father and Son</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey!! I'm back with a new chapter! Remember when I said I would try to keep my chapters shorter? Yeah, that didn't work out, so here's 6k words about Tony and Peter and Tony's reaction to meeting James. </p>
<p>Quick little warning: There's some references to violence in the first italicized part (it's very minimal) and a reference to homophobia (also very minimal), and the overall exchange includes a very drunk and not nice Obadiah Stane, so if you don't want to read any of that I would recommend just skipping the whole italicized section and I'll throw a quick description of what happened in the end notes :) </p>
<p>Again, if you notice anything that makes you go "hmm" please feel free to comment or reach out to me on tumblr @marvel_ous_maniac </p>
<p>Right now I'm tentatively committing to updates on Mondays and Thursdays, but I'll communicate on my tumblr if that schedule has to change at all. </p>
<p>A huge thanks to everyone for reading!! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tony, there’s just no point in us selling pastries. After our finance crew looked it over, the ingredients are one of our biggest expenditures and we’re just not getting the income back from your pastry sales for it to be a valuable investment. I know you understand, you’re business-minded like your father.” Obadiah pat Tony’s shoulder from where he was standing behind the leather couch, a sly, yet charismatic, smile gracing his face. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony was seated on the center cushion of said couch, suit rumpled, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, and his tie discarded. Peter was sitting near him, crouched at the coffee table in the middle of the room playing with legos. His suit was equally messy, if not more so, but he was too young to care, and Tony was too emotionally exhausted to give a shit. Everyone had left the wake that was held at the mansion anyway, so it wasn’t like Tony had to pretend that he and Peter were impressive and put-together anymore. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Peter was 12- almost 13 now- so he was old enough to understand that his grandfather was dead and what that meant, but Howard and Peter were never particularly close. Peter was much closer to Maria, but she died when he was only five, and at that age he didn’t understand what death really was, or why his father was so upset, but that was just a distant memory for both Peter and Tony now. Thankfully his son was wearing headphones and listening to music, completely tuned out of what was going on around him. Tony really didn’t want him to hear this conversation- he could sense what was coming, and it wasn’t good. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obadiah circled the couch and sat next to Tony, wrapping his arm around the younger man. “You understand, don’t you? It’s what’s best for the company, what’s best for Howard’s legacy. He was planning this cut for a while before he passed.” Obadiah rubbed a circle in Tony’s back, sighing. “It’s a shame, really. You have great ideas, but we just can’t afford to use you anymore.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony straightened up, brows creasing in confusion. “Obie, I understand the pastry cut, I get it, but some of our best sellers are the breakfast sandwiches- are you just planning to get rid of me altogether? What are you going to do about the loss in income from the breakfast cut?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obadiah took a deep breath and let it out slowly, sitting back into the cushions. He picked up his nearby glass of scotch, shifting the balance of the glass from side to side. For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ice in his drink clinking against the sides of the glass. “We ran the numbers, and it’s much cheaper and easier for us to just outsource our breakfast foods. They’ll taste about the same, and honestly, our customers don’t pay enough attention or give enough of a shit to see that the food has changed from fresh to frozen- they just want something to stave off the hunger, no one actually looks forward to their organic morning breakfast sandwich that costs our company more to produce than it should.” He took a sip of the scotch, left arm wrapping around the back of the couch. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Somehow, Tony noted, Obadiah’s suit still looked pristine. “I- are you serious? You’re just going to cut me out of my father’s business? I know he didn’t want me running the company yet, but that was the hope someday… right?” Tony rubbed his temples with his right hand, left hand clenched in a fist. Howard had left him very little in the will- most of Howard’s money went to various members of the company his father had grown close to over the years, the company itself had gone to Obadiah, along with his father’s vintage car collection, and all Howard had left Tony was the house, which, while nice, came with costly mortgage payments (the company was in trouble a couple of years back and a mortgage of the house was the best way to get the company out of the hole), expensive upkeep, and the salaries of the various individuals who worked at the mansion. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony was grateful that he had gotten the house- it was the only home his son knew, and with Tony’s salary, the extra costs wouldn’t be much of a problem. But with Tony out of a job, there was no way he would be able to afford to live in his father’s home. “Obie- please. Can’t you just put me somewhere else in the company? Like- I don’t know, coffee development? Without this job- I mean, dad really left me just the house, and I… I can’t pay all the costs that come with living here without my job, Obie. The funeral already took care of most of my savings.” The funeral and wake, per Howard’s wishes, had been an almost 100,000 dollar ordeal combined. It was extravagant, just like his father, but cost Tony an arm and a leg, and at this point he was dangerously close to being in an uncomfortable spot money-wise. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obadiah chuckled, downing the rest of his scotch in one move. “Tony, don’t be silly. The coffee development department is full of biologists and actual coffee experts. Kid, you’re just a thirty-something-year-old with a degree in culinary arts. Look- you’re a genius with foods, you are, I just don’t see a place for you in Stark Industries.” Obadiah sighed, setting his glass down. He stood up and walked around the room, tousling Peter’s hair when he passed the boy. Peter glared up at him, shrinking back from the touch- he hated physical contact from anyone but Tony, Maria, or Jarvis- Tony was the only one left alive of that group, though- and Obadiah knew that about Peter, too. So, at this point, he was just being a dick. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony glared at the man, standing up from the couch. He removed his suit jacket, rolling his dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows in a move to make him seem more powerful- and confident- than he was. “So what? I’m sure Howard wouldn’t want his house going to someone out of the family, he loved this place. If I can’t afford to stay here and you refuse to keep me in the company, what do you propose I do?” He crossed his arms, a finger tapping against his bicep rapidly. His anxiety was getting so high that it was starting to physically show, and that was never a good thing. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obadiah glanced at Tony’s finger on his bicep, smirking knowingly. He shrugged and walked to the bar that was situated across the room, walking with a sort of confidence that could only come from being drunk. He put an olive in a martini glass, then began measuring the appropriate amounts of gin and vermouth into a nearby mixing glass. “Well, Tony-” He stopped speaking momentarily, stirring the contents of the glass with a long spoon. After his drink was combined he stood there for a moment, then looked up at Tony, a glint in his eye. “-the way I see it, you and the kid have two options.” He stopped again, straining the contents of the mixing glass into his martini glass. He picked up the drink, taking a sip with a fiendish grin. “You can find another artistic creative pastry bullshit job with some other company in the SoCal area, though I’ve heard from friends that there aren’t many openings around here, and, with what little varied experience you have, I doubt you would be the optimal candidate.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obadiah walked to a nearby leather armchair, sitting with a sigh. He rested his left leg on his right, sipping at his martini. “Or you can go with option number two. Sell me the mansion to ah- keep it in the family, which would give you enough money to support yourself and the kid for a while, then go find something else to do and somewhere else to live.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony blinked, staring in disbelief at the man who had once served as his father figure, the man who he had once trusted with his life. How could someone change so quickly?  “I- Obie, y-you can’t be serious. This is the only home Peter has ever known, and the only family he knows lives here. Living in this area is going to be way too expensive, and you said it yourself, most companies that have a position like mine aren’t even hiring.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obadiah shrugged, looking around the room. “Well, Tony, you can always go with option three. Live here until the government kicks you out and CPS takes your kid for your failure to provide.” The man chuckled, finishing the rest of his drink with a swig. He fished his fingers into the glass and grabbed the large olive at the bottom, popping it into his mouth with a grin. “And, I would also like to add-” He spoke with his mouth full, swallowing the olive with a grin. He cleared his throat, standing up straight. “-I would like to add that you and the kid don’t have family out here except for me, Tony. The rest of your blood family is dead, and your two friends outside the Stark empire- Virginia Potts and James Rhodes- they really are just friends, aren’t they? And they don’t even live here, they live across the country in New York. Unless you’re talking about the kid’s birth mother, but she’s-” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t you fucking dare, Obie-” Tony cut him off took a step towards the man, cracking his knuckles as menacingly as he could manage. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“-she’s in a coma she’s not likely to wake up from, and without the Stark millions funding her survival, how long until she’s gone, too? Hmm? And then what?” Obadiah punctuated his point by setting his glass down on the nearby table. His statement caused Tony to stop dead in his tracks, at a loss for words. “It’s not like you really love her, Tony. Your type can’t love women, not really. She was just- what? Fulfilling an urge you thought you needed filled?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony blinked, vision blurring with anger, then started walking towards the man again, arms shaking with his need to punch the asshole. Obadiah stood as Tony approached, looking down at the younger man with a raised brown. Tony glared up at the prick, crossing his arms to try and look bigger, but in the back of his mind a voice was begging him to retreat. He didn’t like where this was going. “She was my friend. I loved her like a friend, and I still do. You’re threatening to kill one of my friends.” Obadiah snickered, and this close Tony could smell the alcohol coming off of him in waves. The man was clearly drunk- which wasn’t good… at all. This was about to get messy. Tony cleared his throat, looking down at Peter, who was now looking up at the two men curiously, headphones discarded on the table. “Petey, kiddo, you think you can go to your room for me? I’ll be up in a second. You’re not in trouble, I promise.” Peter opened his mouth to argue, but after a quick glance at Obadiah, he nodded quickly and stood up, rushing up the nearby stairs earnestly. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony turned back to Obadiah to argue his point further, but was instead met with a fist to the side of his face. Tony stumbled back, covering the left side of his face with his right hand, blinking rapidly. He was about 90% sure that Obadiah’s ring had cut near his left eye, but his main priority was Peter’s safety, he could take care of himself later. Obie was bad when he was drunk, but he was never this bad. “Do not speak that way to me, Tony.” Tony could hear Obie’s voice past the gentle ringing in his left ear but didn’t dare look up from the ground. The last thing he wanted to do was see what would happen if he provoked the older man further. “Now, Tony-” Tony could feel Obadiah hovering next to him and could see his dress shoes dangerously close to his own. “- I only see one good option here, and the more you talk back, the less I want to keep my gracious offer on the table. So…” Tony’s face was lurched upwards by Obadiah’s finger on his chin, and he was suddenly staring eye-to-eye with the man. “What’ll it be?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony took a deep, shaking breath, shutting his eyes tightly. After a moment he opened his eyes again, giving the older man a curt nod. “F-fine. Just… please don’t hurt Peter.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Obadiah chuckled and pat Tony on his back, retreating. “Good man. I’ll expect you to be out by tomorrow morning, of course. No need to stay in town just to sell me the house, we can do that all digitally nowadays.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tony opened his mouth to argue that he needed more time, but the strong smell of alcohol hit his senses again at that moment, and he valued his life enough to know that it would be stupid to speak up. He nodded again, stepping back from Obadiah. “Of course. Tomorrow morning.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The loud cry of his alarm clock took him out of his nightmare almost instantaneously. Tony shot upright with a gasp, panting to try and catch his breath. These nightmares- really memories- came to him weekly, taunting him with the old life he had and what he left behind. Granted, Tony was much happier now, but the guilt of what he couldn’t provide for his son anymore, and the guilt of </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much more</span>
  </em>
  <span> that went along with his departure from Stark Industries, plagued him. Once Tony caught his breath he glanced at his alarm clock, grimacing at the numbers staring back at him. The one thing Tony hated about his new life was how fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>early</span>
  </em>
  <span> he had to wake up. 5:45 am was a disgusting time to get up in his opinion, and he still was nowhere near used to it after almost two years of forcing himself up at the ungodly hour to get things ready for the shop and get Peter off to school. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony groaned and rolled off the bed, standing slowly with a wince. His body was always sore after one of his weird nightmare-dream-memory-hybrid-things. With a shake of his head to get himself out of his thoughts, Tony stumbled to the bathroom and began his morning routine- which consisted of a quick five-minute shower, taking his morning medication, brushing his teeth, and pulling on whatever clothes that would look fairly normal under his apron- which today consisted of an ACDC shirt, black jeans, and black converse. He tried to look professional, but really who would stop him from dressing how he wanted to at his establishment? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A quick check of his watch showed him that it was exactly 6 am, which meant it was time to go try and wake up Peter to get ready for school. Tony sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he walked into the kitchen, glaring at Peter’s door. Waking up his son was one job he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing. He never knew how Peter slept the night before, or if he was having a bad day or a good day, and for Peter, those were two </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> different things. He sighed and leaned against the counter, resting his head against the floating cabinets in his kitchen. “Ah- uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alexa</span>
  </em>
  <span> or whatever the fuck your name is, can you play </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jump</span>
  </em>
  <span> by Van Halen in Peter’s room? At like… volume 8 or something?” The black circular contraption on his counter lit up with a blue light, and moments later Tony could hear the song loud and clear from where he was standing next to the coffee maker- which meant that it was probably loud as fuck in Peter’s room. “Uh- thanks.” He sighed and pressed a couple of random buttons on said coffee maker, leaning more against the counter for support. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> a morning person. No matter how hard he tried to become one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The coffee maker buzzed a moment later, letting Tony know that his previously empty coffee cup was now blessedly full. He grabbed the coffee cup instantly and took a quick sip, wincing at the heat but relaxing once the taste hit his taste buds. He was a coffee addict, no question about it. Following a couple more minutes of sipping at his too-hot coffee, Tony finally felt awake enough to finish his experiment from the night before, something he had been working to perfect for almost two weeks now. The idea had come to him in a dream -like many of his crazy pastry ideas did- this time it was cinnamon roll cookies- and once he woke up after that dream he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until he could present Nat and Clint with a perfected recipe to add to the menu. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s pastry shop, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iron Maiden</span>
  </em>
  <span>, had been open for close to a year and a half now, and it was finally starting to grow in popularity with the locals. He had poured every penny he had after the “big move” (as he not-so-affectionately coined it) between the pastry shop and their rent, and just recently he had to start putting even more money towards Peter’s schooling, and with two of those three expenditures having no potential income, Tony knew he was making a risky move. Going into it, the shop being a success was a distant dream, but it had finally started generating income 8 months after opening, and now, almost a year and a half in, Tony was starting to pay off his loans, which meant that he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone else’s money anymore to survive and keep Peter comfortable- and wasn’t that a weight off his shoulders?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony carefully removed a baking sheet with two long, rolled-up logs of sugar cookie dough with cinnamon-sugar filling from the fridge where they had chilled overnight. He expertly cut them into one and a half inch slices, laying them out on a separate, greased baking pan with ease. Baking- it was something he understood. It made him </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a way he had hardly ever felt while he was living in Southern California. Peter, of course, made him happy beyond belief daily, but baking was a different kind of happy. When he was baking he was in ‘the zone’, and that ‘zone’ was only complimented by his favorite music playing loudly- either through headphones or speakers. Moments later he had both logs of cookie dough sliced and laid out on the baking sheet, and after a quick examination to make sure all the slices looked even, he slid the sheet into the oven. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad?” Tony looked up from the oven, smiling at Peter’s tired doe-eyes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So it was a good night, then. That was good… he could work with that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning kiddo. I made some muffins last night, they’re on the table.” He watched as Peter’s eyes darted over to the dining room table, smirking when the kid took a step towards the table. “Ah, no- shower, take your meds, get dressed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Then</span>
  </em>
  <span> breakfast. You can always eat it on the train, you can’t very well shower on the train, </span>
  <em>
    <span>can </span>
  </em>
  <span>you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony smiled as Peter grumbled and turned around, watching as his kid dragged his feet to the bathroom. Tony sighed once Peter was out of the room and took out his phone, swiping through his notifications. As usual, his phone was lacking many notifications this early in the morning. He checked the train schedule, sighing with relief to see that there were no delays that would affect Peter’s schedule. Today was shaping up to be a good day. Tony stifled a yawn and quickly opened his various social media platforms for </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iron Maiden</span>
  </em>
  <span>, responding to comments with ease. That was a normal part of his morning, and it only took about ten minutes, so by the time he was done the cookies were ready to get out of the oven. He expertly removed the pan and immediately covered it with aluminum foil to keep the cookies as warm as possible, glancing at his watch. 6:30… not enough time to let the cookies cool and frost, which was fine- it would be easier to make icing at the shop anyways. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm, these muffins are </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> good.” Tony looked up, rolling his eyes at his son, who was now staring at him from the table and inhaling a muffin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Pete, kid, I know you’re a teenage boy and have teenage boy metabolism, but eat a little slower so you don’t give your old man an aneurysm from worrying so much, please?” Tony finished covering the pan with foil, then walked to the table with a fond smile. “That being said, we only have ten minutes before we have to start getting you to the train station and me to work, so I guess I understand your eagerness.” Tony shrugged and grabbed a muffin for himself, taking a bite with a sigh. “Doing anything fun in school today?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter put his half-eaten muffin down and shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… maybe? I’m not sure yet. There are tryouts for the decathlon team today, and…” Peter took a deep breath, then muttered quickly under his breath, cheeks going red “ -my friends Ned and MJ asked me to go and try out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony gasped, grabbing his chest dramatically. “Oh my god. You have friends </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> you’re going to go and join a club today, you make your dad so proud Petey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter went as red as a tomato, shoving Tony’s arm playfully. “Stop, dad, it’s not a big deal. Don’t freak out, I only just met Ned, and as for MJ… well, I would say it’s a stretch to call us friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony smiled, tousling Peter’s curls with his right hand while he held his muffin in his left. “Still, this is a big step kiddo. I’m glad you’re fitting in and getting to know people who are at your level of genius.” Tony winked at Peter, taking a large bite of his muffin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter shrugged, laughing softly. “Whatever, dad. Don’t be cringey.” Peter finished the rest of his muffin and jumped up, glaring at the clock on the wall in betrayal. Tony noted absently that it was already time for them to start heading out. “M’gonna go brush my teeth and get my backpack, I’ll be ready to leave in a second!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony chuckled and nodded, finishing his muffin leisurely. By the time he had grabbed his own backpack, put on his sunglasses, and picked up the baking sheet, Peter was standing by the door with a dopey smile. “See? I’m not late </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time, I’m just bad at time management.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes, nodding for Peter to open the door. “Yeah, whatever you say, kid.” Tony smiled and walked out, standing outside the door as Peter closed and locked it. “Thanks Petey. You sure you have everything? Phone? Your card for the train? Inhaler? School Stuff?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter rolled his eyes, turning to face his dad. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes,</span>
  </em>
  <span> dad. I have everything.” Tony smiled and nodded, turning to walk towards the elevator. As he walked, he began to make a mental list of everything he needed to do today- </span>
  <em>
    <span>test the new recipe with Nat and Clint, start a custom order for 48 cupcakes themed around Harry Potter for a kid’s 11th birthday party- </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Puppy!” Tony was brought out of his thoughts by Peter shouting in the middle of the hallway, and honestly Tony wondered how his kid could function sometimes with how all over the place he was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony turned around to try and drag Peter away from whatever distracted him, but was stopped dead in his tracks by how fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>hot</span>
  </em>
  <span> the stranger across from him was. He was more than just handsome, Tony would argue he was straight </span>
  <em>
    <span>gorgeous</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Who was this guy? Tony glanced at the door next to his, 409, now noticing the slight discrepancies that would suggest someone lived there, like the light coming from the small gap at the bottom of the door and the door no longer having a small red sticker next to the number, which is what his super liked to do to remind himself that certain apartments were unoccupied. Was this guy his neighbor now? Tony frowned in thought, examining the man. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>built</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Clearly the guy exercised, or used to exercise, or </span>
  <em>
    <span>something </span>
  </em>
  <span>like that because the guy’s arm was </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Tony would put money on him having a six-pack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony’s thoughts stuttered for a moment, and his eyes landed on the man’s left arm- or rather lack thereof. The man was wearing a prosthetic, and obviously Tony had seen amputees before, but what struck him was how the other man was holding himself, and specifically how he was trying to keep the prosthetic arm out of view of Peter and Tony. Maybe it was new? Tony shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself. It was none of his business, and why should he care anyway? It’s not like it took away from the attractiveness of the absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>hunk</span>
  </em>
  <span> standing in front of him. The man’s black t-shirt only served to accentuate his biceps, and his jeans were </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> tight in the right places. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony sighed, checking his watch absently. They were running tight on time, but he could spare a couple of minutes to chat with his neighbor. It was his duty as a neighbor to make the new resident feel welcome, right? He shifted his baking pan to the side to try and open himself up more for the conversation, then cleared his throat. “Kid- jesus, where are your manners? Sorry, he’s a stickler for dogs. I’m Tony, that’s Peter, my son. We live in 410, right next to you I’m guessing? We didn’t even know someone moved in there! I would shake your hand but ah-” he held up the baking sheet, waving it a little, “my hands are full.” Tony flashed the smile that he had coined years ago as his ‘sexy smile’, and watched as his neighbor stood there, looking panicked. Tony blinked in confusion- was the ‘sexy smile’ broken or something? Or was this guy just not into him? There was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> way the other man was straight, Tony thought with a smirk. He was wearing a </span>
  <em>
    <span>man bun</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That was either a hipster thing or a gay thing, and the man</span>
  <span> didn’t strike Tony as a hipster guy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi. I’m uh- I’m James. You uh- like waking up early?” The man- James, spoke finally, and Tony had to subtly clutch the baking pan to not </span>
  <em>
    <span>swoon</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He didn’t think the man could be any more attractive, but his voice was the perfect mix of husky and soft, and the way James bit his lip made Tony want to talk to him for hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took him a moment to fully process what James had said, but once he did he felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>awful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It’s not like he would have woken Peter up with music at top volume if he had known someone had moved into 409 (unless they were a total dick, then he </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> would have). Tony shifted awkwardly, trying not to drop the giant pan in his arms while also trying not to come off as an asshole. Yeah, that wasn’t going very well for him. He smiled again, working to regain his composure, then spoke. “Oh- I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize someone had moved in next door, and well, Peter- he’s a deep sleeper, and he normally needs something to get him up in the morning, and honestly, I need it too because I’m awful before my coffee, but uh- yes. My bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s your dog's name? Can I pet them? I love corgis.” Tony looked down at the ground, chuckling at his son. Peter was kneeling on the ground at the same level as the dog, smiling his dorky ‘I’m-super-excited’ smile. Granted, the dog was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> cute- and, Tony noted, also missing his left front leg- which sparked Tony’s interest. How long had James </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> the dog? Was he new, too? Tony shook his head again, starting to get aggravated at his wandering thoughts. It wasn’t his business to learn all the private things about his neighbor, even if said neighbor was a smoking hot bundle of mystery. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His name is Winter. And uh- sure?” Tony looked up when he heard James’ voice again, heart melting when he saw the man smiling at Peter interacting with the dog- Winter. A quick glance at the ground told him that Winter was </span>
  <em>
    <span>loving</span>
  </em>
  <span> the entire interaction. He was wagging his tail eagerly and kissing Peter’s hand, and wasn’t that just the cutest? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, Tony felt like such a dick now for being overly obnoxious in the morning. James didn’t deserve to be woken up by his need to wake up early for baking, or his need to wake Peter up at an ungodly hour for an almost 50-minute commute to school. Tony bit his lip and quickly uncovered the baking sheet, holding it out awkwardly to James. “Here, uh- as a sorry-we-woke-you-up-and-welcome-to-the-complex gift. Take a couple, they’re a recipe I’ve been playing with, cinnamon roll cookies.” His foot started tapping anxiously and he winced in embarrassment, shifting the baking sheet closer to the other man to make it easier for James to grab one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched as James blushed-</span>
  <em>
    <span> yes, actually blushed, Tony didn’t think James could be so fucking cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>- and reached for a cookie, grabbing one from the pan. Tony smiled wide when the man muttered a soft thanks, then his thoughts came to a screeching halt- did James live alone? That wasn’t even something Tony had thought to ponder- Only taking one cookie suggested that he did, but maybe James was in a relationship? Was it bad for him to be flirting without even knowing anything about James’ personal life? Tony sighed and kicked at the ground, covering the pan back up hastily. He forced a smile, looking back up at James. He was suddenly very thankful for his sunglasses covering his eyes up- he had been told by many people in his life- good and bad- that his eyes always revealed exactly what he was thinking, and ever since- ever since ‘the move’ he just didn’t like people knowing what he was thinking. That, and he was initially wearing sunglasses </span>
  <em>
    <span>constantly</span>
  </em>
  <span> after he moved to Brooklyn for a couple of months to cover the nasty scar Obie’s ring had left across his left eye, so they just became a staple in his wardrobe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shook his head slightly, coming back to the conversation. “Oh- yeah, it’s no problem. I’m just taking these to-” He frowned suddenly, remembering what he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to be doing at the moment. Tony checked his watch, eyes going wide at the time. An interaction that he thought was only going to take 5 minutes was already going on 20, and wasn’t that just the story of his life? Bad time management was the reason for almost all his late arrivals to work or the train station. “Oh shit, Peter, we’re gonna be late to getting you to the train for school, fuck.” He moved the pan around, securing the corners of the foil that covered it to make sure nothing would happen to the cookies that he had been spending weeks perfecting. Tony bit his lip in frustration, foot tapping faster. James was so nice, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated</span>
  </em>
  <span> abandoning their conversation like this. That being said- they were neighbors, it’s not like he wouldn’t see him often. With that in mind, he suddenly formulated a plan so genius that Tony was surprised he came up with it. He grinned at James, adjusting his backpack strap so he could easily access his phone. “It was nice to meet you, James. We’ll have to catch up later. Sorry about the rude awakening earlier.” He smirked and turned around, beginning his walk down the hallway to the elevator. He took out his phone, opening his “baking bros” group chat with Nat and Clint. “C’mon kid! If you’re late again the school is gonna kill me!” He could hear Peter say goodbye to James, but he was too focussed on his new added task of the day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dad! Ohmygod Winter was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>cute</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Did you see his ears and his short legs?!” Peter was walking- but really, it was more like jumping- next to him, and his voice was more animated than Tony had heard in a long time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony chuckled, nodding as he pressed the call button for the elevator. “Yeah, he sure was cute. It made me start thinking- why doesn’t Iron Maiden have a dog treat collection? I’m sure James wouldn’t mind if I asked Winter to test out the recipe?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter grinned next to him, getting into the elevator eagerly. “Really? Does that mean I’ll get to see him more often?! I wish we could have a dog…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony chuckled, getting into the elevator after Peter. He bumped shoulders with his son fondly, smiling down at him. “Hopefully, yeah. I think it’ll mean we’ll get to see James and Winter more often. And as for not having a dog, you know we don’t have time for that right now. Maybe one day if I can hire some more people and not have to be at the shop as much, we’ll talk about it. But that won’t be for a while. M’sorry kiddo.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter shrugged, smiling up at Tony. “It’s okay, dad. I get it- thank you for everything you do for us. I love you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony smiled gently, heart melting at his son’s kindness. He was such a good kid, and Tony was thankful every day for Peter’s positivity- he wasn’t sure where he’d be without him. “Thanks, kiddo, I love you too.” The elevator came to a stop and Tony stepped out, followed closely by Peter. “Let’s get you to school, hm? You know the drill, if you get to school late just have them call me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course.” Peter walked next to him, taking out his phone briefly at a crosswalk. Tony glanced over when he heard Peter chuckle at something on his phone, eyes widening when he saw Peter tapping away eagerly at the screen with his thumbs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you texting?” Tony tried to hold back the excitement in his voice, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> freaking out. After moving and everything that happened to Peter at school for the first time, Tony was starting to worry Peter was gonna have a hard time finding friends at his new school, but Peter actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>texting</span>
  </em>
  <span> someone was better interaction than Tony had seen in a long time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm? Oh! MJ and Ned, the two people I told you about before. They’re uh- they’re really nice. Ned made a group chat for us, they like to meet me at the train station across from the school.” Peter tapped his phone once with a sort of finality, then pocketed it again as they approached the station that was about a five-minute walk from their apartment. “See you after school, dad!” Peter took off down the stairs, leaving Tony to stand there dumbfounded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not only did his kid have friends, but his kid’s friends were </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span> and cared about Peter. That was… great. It was really great. After what happened during Peter’s first year and a half in public school, Tony was positive that Peter wasn’t going to make any friends, but this? This was progress, and it took a burden off of Tony’s shoulders that he didn’t even realize he had. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five more minutes of walking from the station brought him to the shop, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Iron Maiden</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his home away from home. He swiftly grabbed his keys from his pocket and unlocked the front door, making his way to the kitchen in the back to drop off his things and get his apron on. Today started out </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Tony was going to make sure the rest of his day stayed amazing too. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A quick recap of what happens in the ~dream scene~<br/>Obadiah fires Tony from the company after all the guests have left the wake following Howard's funeral. Obie claims that pastries are their largest expenditure and decides to cut all pastries from the shop and begin outsourcing their breakfast food. In the will, Howard left his money to his various friends in the company, left Obadiah the company and his vintage car collection, and left Tony the mansion. This wouldn't be a problem with his job, but without the job, Tony knows he wouldn't be able to continue living there- what with mortgage payments from a rough spot in the company's history, expensive upkeep, and the salaries of the house workers now his full responsibility. The mansion being the only home Peter has ever known, Tony pleads with Obadiah to put him somewhere else in the company, but Obie refuses. Throughout this exchange, Obadiah is drinking more and more, and by this point in the conversation, he is clearly drunk. He brings up that Tony can get another job in the SoCal area, but with his lack of varied experience and the small amount of pastry development jobs in the area, he argues that Tony probably wouldn't be able to find anything. He then offers to buy the mansion from Tony to give them enough money to move away, and after Tony initially refuses from shock, Obadiah threatens that the government would eventually take the house and Peter from Tony if he ran out of money to pay back the mortgage and take care of Peter. He then adds that the only family Tony has in the area is him, what with Pepper and Rhodey living in New York and Peter's mother being on her death bed. In a power play, Obadiah sneaks in that, without the Stark fortune supporting Tony, there would be no way that he could pay to keep Peter's biological mother on life support, and that's where things start to get violent. Tony talks back, Obadiah throws in a homophobic comment, Tony has Peter leave the room, Obadiah gets violent, and for the sake of Peter's safety and his own, Tony agrees to sell Obadiah the mansion and be out by the next morning. That's where the dream sequence ends. </p>
<p>Thank you all so much for reading, leaving kudos, commenting, and being amazing!!! I'm currently hoping to have the next chapter up by Monday. I hope you enjoyed! ~M</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Just What I Needed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry for not uploading on schedule this week :( Last weekend I had to sew a bunch of masks for family and friends and basically had no time to sit down and cool off. Also, this chapter was a beast to write and edit, which is why it's up so late. I know this chapter doesn't seem super action-packed but it's important for background-y stuff coming up and I promise things are gonna start picking up next chapter (the James centered chapter, oooo) and then the chapter after that it's gonna be meeting time for Tony and James (OOOOO) so it's coming up y'all- as Cap says in the end credit of Spiderman: Homecoming, Patience. </p><p>Some stuff is revealed in this chapter that may seem confusing, so sound off in the comments and let me know what you think is going on!!! &lt;3 I'm excited to ~reveal~ stuff. Also to give y'all a time period: this is currently happening in mid-August! School is in session because the author decided that, because Midtown is a private school and hard to get into, it's a year-round schedule and started at the beginning of August/Late July- which means Peter has been in school for about 3 weeks. </p><p>I think that's it! As always feel free to comment questions below or message me on tumblr, I'm @marvel-ous-maniac over there. Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Alright, so what the hell was that </span>
  <em>
    <span>urgent</span>
  </em>
  <span> text you sent to Clint and I all about, Tony?” Tony looked up from where he was leaned over the counter, hand pausing the delicate work of adding swirled designs in cream cheese icing to the cinnamon roll cookies. He smiled at his employee- one of two that made up his workforce, who was currently leaning in the door frame of the kitchen area, then went back to adding details. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning to you too, Nat. I think I finally perfected the recipe for these bad boys so I need Clint to get to work on them- if he says they’re good then I think I can finally add them to the menu, you know how he is with cinnamon. Where is the guy anyway?” He resumed adding the swirls to each of the cookies, used to the playful banter with his employees- who, at this point, had really become more like friends. “Oh, and I’m thinking of potentially expanding into dog treats? So I may need you to run to the store and get some stuff for me later.” Tony expertly added the last swirl design to the 24th cookie, smirking at his work. He stood up straight, wincing at the pain in his lower back from his almost 30-minutes of work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clint? He’s on the way, texted me that Laura wasn’t feeling well so he had to get the kids off to school this morning. He said he’d make it up by baking some sourdough loaves to be sold tonight.” Natalia walked into the kitchen area, setting her purse on the employee table near the door. She smirked and grabbed her apron from the hanger, tying it around her waist with ease. She crossed her arms, giving Tony that stare of hers that made him feel like she was seeing into his soul. That look freaked him out- a lot. “And can you explain to me- just out of curiosity- why expanding the business to include dog treats is urgent? Seeing as, in the past, things you’ve described as ‘urgent’ have included you taking Peter to the hospital and the shop getting featured as one of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Top 10 New Businesses to Shop at Right Now’</span>
  </em>
  <span> in that one article in the Times?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed, leaning against the island counter behind him. “Can you text Clint for me and tell him to take as much time as he needs? I’ll be sure to send him home with some soup for Laura, too. As for the sourdough loaves- I swear to god that man is an angel. He knows the second he bakes those things our evening business goes up exponentially- I’ll be sure to thank him once he comes in.” Tony stretched to try and work out the kinks in his back then grabbed a nearby metal bowl, carefully scooping some flour into it. “And uh- if I scared you or Clint, I apologize. I… got excited?” He moved to scoop in sugar, adding the ingredients for his vanilla cupcake recipe from memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Right.</span>
  </em>
  <span> You got excited this early in the morning? Must have been something big. Hm- something that inspired dog treats…” She squinted at Tony, pulling some macarons from the freezer that she had completed the night before. She began sliding them onto serving plates for the display area at the front of the shop, smirking knowingly as she did. “You met someone, didn’t you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony looked up at Natalia, eyes going wide. He barely avoided pouring the sugar in his measuring cup straight onto the cool metal countertop of the island he was working at, moving his hand at the last moment so the sugar went into the metal bowl of dry ingredients he was gathering. “I- you know, as your boss, I feel like I could fire you for how much snooping you do in my personal life.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Natalia chuckled, emptying the last sheet of macarons onto a pristine white serving plate. “Oh, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> scared, Parker.” She chuckled and loaded the plates onto the baking sheet, transporting it to the front of the shop with ease. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes and finished putting together the dry ingredients, adding the wet ingredients into his floor mixer with a fond smile. He could hear Natalia gathering more fresh-baked items from the night before that were put into the refrigerator to keep their freshness, but he knew she was smart enough to know that bothering him while he was in the middle of his favorite part of baking- the mixing- was a stupid move. Besides, the two of them worked better in quiet anyways, Nat just liked to pry because- well, Tony suspected it was because she cared, though the woman had never admitted it to him directly. He could just see it in the way she acted around him and his son- the way she asked Peter about his day when he came to the shop after school or made sure that Tony could take much-needed mental and physical health breaks from the register or the kitchen if needed. Nat was the type that cared quietly, and Tony was perfectly fine with that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Tony had finished adding the dry ingredients to the wet he took a step back, waiting for the ingredients to combine properly in the stand mixer. Tony could feel Nat’s eyes burning holes into his back once he did- </span>
  <em>
    <span>why was this such a big deal to her?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He sighed, turning around with his arms crossed. “Can I help you with something, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Miss Rushman</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat chuckled, slicing a pan of brownies into uniform three by three squares. “What’s his name?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony groaned, turning back to the stand mixer once it slowly came to a stop. “I don’t see why- I mean- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He blushed and removed the large bowl, setting it on the counter next to him. He sighed once he did, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Alright, you caught me. Someone moved in next to Peter and me.” Tony got on his tip-toes and grabbed two muffin sheets from the shelving above the countertops, then walked to the fridge to grab some butter. “He has a dog, and I want to impress him, and you know how much Peter likes dogs- so it makes sense. Plus I mean- from a business standpoint- this should hopefully increase our customer base, especially if we offer a free dog treat for every dog who comes in. It’s not like we aren’t a dog-friendly establishment- hell, Clint brings Lucky in on the daily. If we start advertising as pet-friendly, I’m sure we’ll start getting some people in here more often, especially the early-morning dog walking crowd.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he spoke he spread a small amount of butter into each of the cups, then dusted them with flour. A moment later he began to scoop batter into the individual cups in the pan until they were almost all the way full, foot tapping anxiously. He looked past his shoulder, eyebrow raising at Nat, who was leaning against the counter with a pan of brownies completely cut, clearly invested in the conversation. “You’ve got it bad, Tony. Does your mystery neighbor have a name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony bit his lip as he continued filling the cups, cheeks going even more red. “His name is James, and his dog’s name is Winter. He’s a really good guy- god, he’s amazing and quite possibly the hottest man I’ve ever seen in my life. I didn’t even notice he moved in- I’m guessing he’s a bit of an introvert- so I figured ‘hey, if I start dropping off a basket of dog treats with our business card, maybe he’ll thank me in person- either at the apartment or here. But still, I feel like if I spend some one-on-one time with him, maybe he’ll be more actively interested in spending time with Pete and me? I mean, even if no relationship comes of it, he seems like he’s been through some shit, and even if I can just be a friend for him- well, that’s the least I could do, right? God, that sounds so stalk-y. Am I turning into a stalker? Over a man?” Tony finished filling the first sheet and moved onto the second, worrying his lip between his teeth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nat chuckled and began moving the brownies to a serving platter, a smile gracing her face. “No, I don’t think so. You’re just trying to be nice. Besides, I trust your judgment, Tony. If you think he’s a good guy then go for it. It seems like you’re going into it with good intentions.” She left the kitchen, leaving Tony to finish the second sheet of cupcakes. Once he was done he put the sheets in the oven and began to clean up his workspace, thoughts clouding his mind. Thirty minutes later he was already mixing the cake mix for the chocolate cupcakes while thinking over possible dog treat recipes to make and drop by James’ door later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Boss Man.” Tony looked over to the door, snapped out of “the zone” he had been so absorbed in. He took a step back from the stand mixer and grinned, wiping his hands on his apron. Clint and Lucky were standing in the doorway, Clint smirking with his arms crossed while Lucky panted away from his spot next to Clint. Lucky was Clint’s service dog and had been with Clint for as long as Tony knew him.   </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, Bird Brain. Luckster. Got the kids all taken care of?” Tony spoke and signed with ease, hands moving expertly. He was incredibly thankful that Jarvis had taught him ASL as a teen- it was a handy skill to have- back then because some of the staff was deaf or hard of hearing- and was especially useful now with one of his closest friends being almost-deaf. Clint had hearing aids, but they weren’t the best, so Tony liked playing it safe and signing every time he spoke, unless Clint told him otherwise. He checked his watch after he finished his thought, rushing immediately to the oven to take out the cupcakes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm? Oh, yeah, Coop and Lila are at school, Nate’s at Bruce’s, and Coop’s teacher is gonna make sure he and Lila both get on the bus okay at the end of the day to get back home. Bruce is gonna come by here at the end of the day to pass Nate off- so yep, all set.” Clint set his wallet and keys on the table then put on his apron, running his hand through Lucky’s fur once he was “in uniform”. When Clint brought Lucky in, which was almost daily, he would work the counter and Lucky would often lay at his feet or sit next to him, depending on the dog’s mood. Clint only left Lucky at home when he would be coming in for short periods of time, like for a couple of hours to help Tony with a last-minute custom order or to work the counter in an emergency. Clint was great at working the counter- he could read lips and notice things better than anyone Tony had ever met, and most of the time he wouldn’t necessarily need to rely on reading lips, but it was a great skill to have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, I’m glad Brucey-Bear could take Nate today. I’m especially excited to see the tike later on. Did Nat tell you I’m planning to make some soup for you to take home to Laura? Let me know if you two need anything else- you know you’re more than welcome to take a day off whenever you need to.” Tony had set the pans on the nearby counter to continue his conversation with Clint, but once he had finished signing he went back to the stand mixer to scoop the chocolate cake mix into muffin pans, letting the vanilla cupcakes sit to cool. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nat didn’t tell me you were gonna actually cook today, that’s awesome though, thank you.” Clint smiled and stretched, scratching his neck awkwardly. “She did tell me the urgent thing actually isn’t all that urgent, so what’s the deal with that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony hummed and finished scooping briefly, turning towards Clint. “Ah- it’s nothing really. I just met someone and it made me realize we should start a dog treat line. It’s definitely not urgent, I just got excited.” He turned back around to continue dividing the mix into the muffin pans, cheeks bright red. Nat and Clint knew him almost as well as Pepper and Rhodey- which was a little scary to be honest- so there was no doubt in his mind that Clint had already caught on to what Tony was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> thinking. He heard Clint snort from the kitchen doorway and he went even more red, scooping the mix quickly to try and seem like he was invested in what he was doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. Excited. The Tony </span>
  <em>
    <span>I know</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>just get excited</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but sure, I believe you old man.” Tony could here Clint chuckle at the end of his statement, but he just rolled his eyes instead of dignifying it with a response. “I hope you know Nat and I are going to be talking about this all day, especially once Peter comes in. He likes to gossip, even if he doesn’t realize he does.” Tony turned around, eyebrow cocked. “Now I’m going to go open </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> bakery for you and serve </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> customers, you lazy ass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony blinked at Clint, smirking at him as he left the kitchen. “At least I have an ass!” He shouted after Clint, scooping the last of the cake batter into the final muffin cup. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fire me, Parker, I dare you! You’ll be out your best employee!” Clint shouted back, which was followed by an indignant “hey!” from Nat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled and put the two muffin pans in the oven to bake, then took the vanilla cupcakes out of their pan to cool on a cooling rack. While he waited he decided to do some research on dog treat recipes, and before long all 48 cupcakes were cool and ready to be decorated- and it was only 10 am. He smiled at his efficiency and got to work on the Harry Potter decorations the customer had asked for. While baking was his favorite part of the pastry-making process, (the combining of ingredients reminded him of his passion as a kid, chemistry and everything science-related), decorating was a close second. He could express his creativity in fun (and delicious) ways, and the non-decorated pastry was just a blank canvas, as his professors had always said.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour later all 48 cupcakes were decorated and boxed up for their pickup at 12 and Tony was already on his next project, cooking his mother’s chicken soup recipe for the soup of the day- but mostly to send a ton home with Clint. Next to him, a tray of freshly baked bread bowls was sitting on the counter to be taken to the front of the shop with the large pot of soup he was currently finishing. He valued his time spent alone in the kitchen- it gave him an opportunity to breathe and think about everything- things he wished he had done better, things he knew he could still change if he tried hard enough, and things he wanted to do but was unsure of the result, so why would he bother? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony, Peter’s school is on the phone and our lunch rush is about to start- want me to take over?” Tony looked up and glanced at the door, eyebrow raising. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh- sure, yeah. Thanks, Nat, just add two tablespoons of my spice blend once it comes to a boil and it’ll be ready to bring to the front.” Tony took a step back from the counter where he was working and walked to a corner in the back of the kitchen where they had a small office set-up: a phone, a desktop computer, their custom order notebook, and a couple of other things. It was modest, but more than enough to handle their usual demand. He took a seat in the desk chair and sighed, picking up the phone with a wince. “Hello? This is Tony Parker, I’m Peter’s father. Who is this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Mr. Parker. This is Nancy, I’m the substitute nurse at Peter’s school-” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He had felt like he had been forgetting to do something the last couple of days, of course it was this. The regular school nurse had sent him an email when school had started to call Peter’s doctor and get an up-to-date doctors note regarding Peter’s ability to take his anxiety medication whenever it was needed, and he had contacted the doctor’s office, but he had to leave a message and he forgot to follow up with everything that had been going on recently. The usual nurse had agreed to honor the prescription note from Peter’s doctor but had asked for updated information in case she was ever gone, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> he had forgotten to follow up. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tuned back into the conversation, biting his lip when he realized that the nurse had been talking. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, cutting into the conversation. “Right, of course. It’s my bad. Peter has permission to take his anxiety medication when needed and it normally takes ten minutes to set in, but he’ll need about thirty to calm down. How long has he been there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nurse gave an annoyed sigh, pausing for a moment. “He’s probably been here for about ten minutes now. I understand it’s an emergency medication, but it’s school protocol to have a specific doctor’s note about how the medication is taken.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grabbed a nearby pencil and squeezed it in his hand, tapping the end of the pencil rapidly against the desk. “Right. I know that. He has the prescription on file and I recently reached out to his doctor’s office for the note, they just haven’t gotten back to me yet. Can you just- can you let him take it? I promise I’ll call the doctor’s office today, he just- he knows when he needs to take his medication and he doesn’t come in unless he really needs it. If you look at his file you’ll see he’s only been a student there for three weeks, since the beginning of the school year, I believe we have a one month grace period for getting all his information in?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nurse gave another irritated sigh and Tony could hear faint typing sounds. She huffed and began speaking again, an air of anger in her voice. “Fine. Just make sure the doctor’s note is here by the end of the week.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding, letting go of the pencil in his hand. “Thank you. I’ll contact them today. Is there any way you can uh- he told me the regular nurse lets him sit in the single room with the lights off to cool off, can you please let him in there?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The nurse grumbled an affirmative then hung up, leaving Tony with a phone to his ear and a disconnect tone coming through the phone speaker. He sighed and leaned his forehead against the top of the phone, taking a couple of long breaths. Today had been going so </span>
  <em>
    <span>well.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He took a moment to calm down then quickly took out his cell phone, typing out a quick ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>call me when you can’</span>
  </em>
  <span> text to Peter, then dialed the number for Peter’s doctor. Before long he had a doctor's note through email that he immediately forwarded to the school and thumbs-up emoji response from Peter. He leaned back against the desk chair and rubbed his temples, closing his eyes. Today was… a lot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tony!” Tony’s eyes shot open and he stood immediately, stepping out of their small office corner and into the large kitchen. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pep? What are you doing here?” He laughed and took a couple of steps forward, embracing the woman in a hug. “I haven’t seen you for like two months! Why didn’t you text me you were dropping by? Fuck, Is something wrong-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She laughed and hugged him back, smiling sweetly. “No, nothing’s wrong Tony. I was in the area for press and thought I’d drop by, especially after I saw what you’re serving for lunch today. I think Rhodes might be on his way too, but don’t quote me on that. He’s at Fort Hamilton today for some reason. I think he worked it out so he’ll be in town for the next two weeks for Peter’s 15th. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Speaking</span>
  </em>
  <span> of which, do you know what we’re doing yet?” Pepper had taken her phone out of the sleek black purse that was slung around her elbow and was tapping away, smiling lightly. “Can’t believe the little bug has gotten so old!” She looked up, frowning softly when she saw Tony’s face. “Tones? What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s… it’s nothing. It’s just been a rollercoaster of a day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper chuckled, placing her phone in the pocket of her blazer. “Of course, the mystery man. Clint and Nat talked my ear off about it the second I got here. Must be quite the guy to have you deciding to start a whole new line in the shop.” She smirked and crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “What’s his name?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“James, and yes, he’s… I don’t know. I want to get to know him better.” Tony blushed and leaned against the wall, groaning. “And Peter’s school just called about his anxiety meds and it’s… been a long day.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper smiled and pat Tony’s shoulder sympathetically. “Sounds like it. Maybe you should consider hiring another employee? I know you have it in the budget, I’ve run your numbers a million times. Saving up is important, but I think the shop is in a really great place, especially because I just heard that you might be getting another feature from a friend of mine at Forbes. Just- consider it. You need some time off.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed, shrugging slightly. “I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I’ve been thinking of getting a person to run our socials as a part-timer and I could probably use someone on full-time to help out with our customs.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper grinned and crossed her arms. “That’s the spirit. Let me know if you need any help writing up a job posting.” Her phone buzzed and she put up a finger, grabbing it from her pocket. “One sec.” She turned around to answer it and Tony leaned against the wall, frowning in thought. Maybe with more time on his hands, he could actually take a breather once in a while. He’d learned last March- maybe a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> well- that he was taking his time with Peter for granted. With less time in the shop maybe he could take the train with Peter to school, or even pick up a couple of skills? Learn about </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual</span>
  </em>
  <span> chemistry?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was Rhodey, he’s almost here. He heard that Clint’s doing sourdough today and wants a loaf saved- you know how fast those go.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grinned and nodded, laughing softly. “He can have as many as he wants. I think Clint’s planning to get those started in a couple of minutes here anyways. Hey! You two can try the recipe I’ve been working on.” He nodded to the table near the doorway, walking towards it. “Go ahead, try one.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span> Pepper picked a cookie up and bit into it, face lighting up. “Tones! These are outstanding. This might be my new favorite! If you don’t add these to the menu I’ll- I don’t know, just add them to your menu. Has anyone else tried these yet?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled and shook his head, arms crossed. “Nope! Just you. I’m planning to have Nat and Clint try some later.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Try what later? I’m hungry, you better let me have one.” Tony looked to the door, grinning wide. Rhodey was standing there with an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed, a wide smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honey bear!” Tony walked over and hugged him tightly, smiling wide. “You two are seriously the best for surprising me at work. I made mom’s soup, you both should definitely stay for lunch, especially because Clint’s bread probably won’t be ready for another hour.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey smiled and hugged Tony back, snatching a cookie that Pepper held out for him. “I’ve got a few hours off and I miss your mom’s cooking, I don’t see why not.” He winked and took a bite of the cookie, eyebrows raising. “Damn, Tony. I swear you get more talented the longer I know you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes, shoving Rhodey playfully. “Whatever. I’m glad you both like them. I’ll be sure to add them onto our regular menu once Nat and Clint approve.” Tony sighed, taking out his phone when it buzzed. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Peter: </b>
  <b>
    <em>Ready to call </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Peter: I have 5 mins</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Peter: Lunch is about to end and i have bio w/ Ned </em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled tightly and held up his phone, taking a step back. “Have to call the kid. Go ahead and take a seat in the front, I’ll be out in a sec.” Tony could hear both of his friends agree and leave, but he was already on the phone, hand shaking slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi dad.” Tony let out a breath, leaning against the wall near their small office area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pete, hey kiddo. Are you okay? I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I got a note from your doctor and already sent it to the school. I completely blanked-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s ok, dad.” Tony could hear Peter’s breath hitch and he frowned, holding the phone closer to his ear. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you wanna talk about it?” Tony held his breath, lowering himself to sit on the ground. He hung his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “Did someone find out? Because if someone did I can- well, we can figure it out. I can meet with the principal and your teachers-” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter laughed softly, taking a deep breath. “No, nobody found out. I was in English and we were just- we were having a tough conversation today. That’s all. Reminded me of Un- of- of </span>
  <em>
    <span>him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded, letting out his breath slowly. “I get it, kiddo. I had a dream about him last night. I think it’s just because we’re coming up on the anniversary of what happened. Just know that he’s all the way in California, buddy. He can’t find us. Uncle Rhodey set us up with a restraining order and Pep keeps tabs on him, remember? But your fear is totally valid.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter let out a shaky breath and Tony could hear him shift around. “I-I know. I just- I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>scared</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It feels like it’s been too long without hearing anything from him. Like when you opened you got a letter from him, and when I turned 14 I got that card, but there hasn’t been anything since almost last year. I’m afraid that he’s gonna send something next week…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed, biting his lip. “For your birthday again? I promise he won’t, Pete. Would it make you feel better if I told you that he thinks we moved last year?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter laughed gently, clearing his throat. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony chuckled. “I got Pep to send a message to one of his associates that the business failed and we moved to Mississippi.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter laughed louder, and Tony could hear the joy in his voice over the phone. “Seriously? That’s- that’s awesome. Thank you dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smiled, holding the phone tightly. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you and me kiddo. I love you, you know that, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony could hear Peter shuffle over the phone- probably to stand from wherever he was sitting. “Yeah, I know. I love you too. I’ll see you after tryouts today, okay? I should be back to the shop around 4, is it okay if Ned comes with me? He wants to meet you and see the shop.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grinned, standing with a groan. “Of course! Bring him by! I have two people who you might be excited to see here, too.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could hear Peter shout something, then come back to the phone. “Gotta go! Love you, see you!” The phone hung up and Tony chuckled, pocketing his cell phone. Hopefully the rest of the day wouldn’t be so bad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I can </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically </span>
  </em>
  <span>eat the dog treat and enjoy it, should it even be considered a dog treat?” Tony rolled his eyes from where he was situated over the mixing bowl, shooting a glare to Rhodey, who was currently seated on a barstool at the counter nearby eating a slice of fresh bread. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, because it’s not meant for humans and it has, like, no sugar, so would you </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> enjoy it? It’s mostly pumpkin and peanut butter anyways.” Tony turned the stand mixer on and crossed his arms, turning towards his two friends. “Pepper, back me up here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged and grabbed a cookie off a nearby platter, taking a bite. “I don’t know, he’s got a point, Tones.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically. “You can </span>
  <em>
    <span>technically</span>
  </em>
  <span> eat a Beggin’ Strip or whatever the fuck they’re called, and you </span>
  <em>
    <span>may</span>
  </em>
  <span> enjoy it, but does that suddenly make them something you </span>
  <em>
    <span>should</span>
  </em>
  <span> be eating?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey opened his mouth to respond as Pepper laughed, but they were both interrupted by Clint’s shout from the front. “Tony! Your kid is here!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony frowned and checked his watch, eyes going wide. “Huh. It’s already four.” He laughed and walked out of the kitchen, entering their fairly-large front area. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His shop was quite possibly his favorite place in the world. The two side walls were painted a deep red and the front wall where the entrance was was painted a bright yellow- almost gold. The back wall, where their front counter and display pieces were placed, was painted black with chalkboard paint and was covered in doodles from customers who had come in, along with their daily menu written in Natalia’s neat script. The floors were hardwood, stained dark brown, and their yellow-tinted lighting made the entire area feel homey. There were five short tables with four seats around them and six tall tables with two seats around them scattered around the restaurant as well, and all of the furniture was stained with a light aqua, almost teal- Tony’s favorite color. His home away from home was </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it made him warm inside to see so many of his friends, who at this point he considered family, gathered together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad! Hey!” Tony smiled and looked over at his son, eyes widening at the bright yellow blazer he was wearing. He smirked when he saw the boy next to Peter, who was wearing a matching blazer and was looking around the place with a shocked expression. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kid! Hi! Nice blazer, very stylish- I’m gonna guess this is Ned?” He stuck his hand out to the kid, smiling wide. “Nice to meet you, I’m Tony Parker, Peter’s dad.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ned shook his hand eagerly, grinning. “Hi, Mr. Parker! I’m Ned Leeds! Thanks for letting me come back with Peter, this place is awesome! I read about it in the paper a while ago and I’ve been meaning to come by, but I didn’t have anyone to come with!” He looked around, fiddling with the blazer awkwardly. “You really like these? They’re the blazers for the decathlon team! Peter made it on the team today, he’s probably the smartest member on our team, if not our school, so it was no surprise that he made it on no problem.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter blushed, shoving Ned with his elbow. “That’s not true, MJ is the smartest on the team and you know that. I’m really excited to be a member, though!” He straightened out his blazer sleeves, grinning wide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony smirked, crossing his arms. “I guess I’m going to have to meet MJ one of these days to see how her genius rivals yours.” He ruffled Peter’s hair, smiling. “Hey! I almost forgot! I have a surprise!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey came out of the kitchen and walked over to Peter, hugging him tightly. “How’s my favorite kid doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter grinned and hugged him back tightly, eyes wide. “Uncle Rhodey! I didn’t know you were in town!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper followed behind him, her eyebrow quirked. “Wow, I see how it is. Guess I’m the lame aunt now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s jaw dropped and he hugged Pepper too, smiling wide. “Aunt Pepper! Hi! What are you both doing here?! Ned, this is my Aunt Virginia Potts and my Uncle James Rhodes, but you can just call them Pepper and Rhodey. They’re probably the coolest people ever, next to my dad of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ned smiled and waved, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Hi! I’m Ned Leeds, It’s seriously like- such an honor to meet you two. Ms. Potts, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>love</span>
  </em>
  <span> your green energy work with Stark Industries, and Colonel Rhodes your high-tech war tactics are really interesting, especially your drafts for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>War Machine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper snorted out a laugh then cleared her throat, smiling. “Thanks. I wish I could do more but the CEO is kind of a douche.” She winked at Ned and crossed her arms, shoving Rhodey. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m impressed, how do you know so much about Pep and me?” Rhodey raised his eyebrow, glancing at Peter with an inquisitive look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve learned about both of you in current events! We studied Ms. Potts during our two-week section on </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stark Industries</span>
  </em>
  <span> and it’s global negative and positive impacts. As for you Colonel Rhodes, we open each class on Monday with a five-to-ten minute discussion about the war, and your name comes up a lot with the different steps you’ve taken to try and end it. I’ve done some of my own research and I just find your projects really interesting.” Ned blushed and shrugged a little, looking at the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m hungry, can Ned and I grab something from the display?” Peter spoke with a smile, arms behind his back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shrugged. “Sure, just don’t spoil your dinner.” He nudged Peter with his elbow and smiled, turning to his two friends. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey was standing there with a slightly shocked look on his face and Pepper was wearing a bright smile, eyes slightly misty. “I’m so glad he got in at Midtown, he seems so happy.” Pepper’s voice wavered as she spoke, her eyes trained on the two boys ordering from Clint. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. He’s making friends for the first time since we’ve been here and I’m just- I’m really proud of him. He’s doing so much better than he was a couple of months ago, you know?” Tony sighed and crossed his arms, checking his watch. “Anyways, I should finish up those dog treats. We close up in about two hours and I’ve got some stuff left to get done. Do you two want to hang out here with the kids or head back to the kitchen with me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper shrugged, smiling gently. “I think I’ll spend some time with the kids, make sure they don’t get into too much trouble. James?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey chuckled, elbowing her. “Don’t call me that, s’weird.” He sighed, checking his watch with a frown. “I should get going, I have an early morning at the base. I’ll say bye to the kid before I leave.” Rhodey hugged Tony, patting his back a couple of times during the embrace. “He’s not the only one you should be proud of, Tones. It takes a lot of work to get where you are now. To completely become a different person is just… insane. But two years later and look at you! You’ve done a great job.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony let out a wet laugh, hugging Rhodey back tightly. “You’re not too bad yourself. I’ll see you in a couple of days?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rhodey nodded and smiled. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss the kid’s 15th for anything. I’ll see you Sunday.” He pat Tony’s shoulder, hugged Pepper, then went off to say goodbye to Peter. Tony watched as his friend retreated, wrapping his arms around himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’m always here for you two, right?” Tony glanced over to Pepper, smiling gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pep, love of my life, of course I know. You’re- Peter views you as a mom, you know. He really values having you in our life, especially after everything. I know he never got to know Mary and you never got to meet her, but uh- she’d be thankful for all you do for him, and you’re the closest thing he’s had to a mother figure. After everything that happened and how you just took us in- seriously, you’re amazing.” Tony hugged Pepper, rubbing her back. “This isn’t about SI, right? You know I’m fine with you working for them, you’re doing great things and really turning things around.”</span>
</p><p><span>Pepper bit her lip, looking to the ground. She took a step out of Tony’s embrace and wiped her face, sniffing gently. “I- it’s not about SI, it’s about Obie. He heard that you two are still here and that Iron Maiden is basically the opposite of a failed business. I heard that he was more than angry- Tony he was </span><em><span>violent.</span></em><span>” She whispered the last word, covering her mouth with her hand, breath hitching on the last word. </span><span><br/>
</span> <span>Tony took a step back, eyes going wide. He lowered his voice, finger tapping anxiously at his side. “Pepper, what are you talking about?”</span></p><p>
  <span>She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes glancing at Peter, who was currently hugging Rhodey tightly. “I guess someone showed him the article from a couple months back, and I think someone may have reached out to him about small-business collaborations and your name was dropped. I know Peter is safe- there are guards at his school and Obadiah doesn’t know your address and it would be way too hard for Obie to target him on the trains, plus he never really cared about Peter… I’m worried about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I think he’s starting to feel threatened. Just… be on the lookout. I can help, we can get you a P.O. box for your real mail and shut down your apartment mailbox or something, I don’t know. I just don’t want you getting hurt, and I know he would go for you if given the chance-” Her breath hitched again and she worried at her lip, taking her phone out. “I tried to tell him it wasn’t true, but he found out. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Right. I- I knew he would figure it out sooner or later.” He took a deep breath, scanning the area around him in thought. A moment later he looked to Pepper, an almost-sad smile gracing his face. “Look, I’ll do the whole P.O. box thing, but I refuse to live in fear of Obadiah. We have a restraining order and we’ve taken as many protective measures as we could. I mean- Pep, I go by Mary’s last name. Peter does, too. Obadiah didn’t even know Mary’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span> name. I know he knows the location of the shop, but I feel safe here. He would be stupid to try and get to me in the middle of the day with witnesses, right? And how often do I stay late? Practically never.” He sighed and looked at Peter, who was now eating a bagel and chatting with Ned at one of the tall tables in the corner- Peter’s favorite table. “I </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> live in fear. I can’t handle that, and I don’t want to put Peter through that. I’ll take precautions, but I’m not going to put my life on hold because he wants me to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pepper smiled sadly, nodding a little. “I get it, Tones. I’m not asking you to stop everything and become a hermit, just- be careful?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony flashed a wide smile and winked at Pepper, crossing his arms. “When am I not careful?” Pepper snorted a laugh and covered her mouth, rolling her eyes. “Okay, I’ll be </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span> careful.” He checked his watch, smile turning to a frown. “I’ve really gotta get back to it, Pep. You’ve got the kids?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, you go do your thing, I’ll hang out here with the kids until you’re done.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stuck out a tongue and wiped a finger across his cheek, turning around to face the door of the kitchen. “What would I do without you?” He winked and walked back into the kitchen, getting back to his long list of things to do. His end-of-day routine was the same almost every night- bake cookies with some of the frozen dough that he mixes on Mondays (when they’re closed), sort the custom order forms to make sure he knows what he needs to do the next day, finish any outstanding projects (today that included dog biscuits and making sure Clint and Nat tasted the cookies he had brought from home, which was followed by adding the dough onto the ‘to mix’ list for Monday after both of them gave their seal of approval), put the dishes in the industrial dishwasher, and finish off the evening by closing everything down and ensuring that the more simple pastries Nat had finished, his more complex pastries, and Clint’s various types of breads were all put in the freezer or fridge to stay fresh overnight. The routine was comfortable, was often paired with the same classic rock that would play at a low volume at the front of the shop all day, and Tony could </span>
  <em>
    <span>swear</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time it took to do everything went by faster every night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he knew it he was locking up the shop, saying goodbye to Clint, Nate (who had been dropped off while he was doing the closing routine), Natalia, and Pepper, a small white box of dog biscuits and the rest of the cinnamon roll cookies in a smaller white box in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, and his keys in his other hand. Ned was standing next to Peter, train card in hand, talking with Peter animatedly about the new </span>
  <em>
    <span>Star Wars </span>
  </em>
  <span>series. Tony smiled and finished locking up, then began walking back to the apartment with the boys, via a stop at the train station to drop Ned off. By the end of his day at the shop he was always tired beyond belief, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much better</span>
  </em>
  <span> than what he used to have. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad? You seem a little distracted… what’s up?” Tony glanced at Peter, eyebrows raised. They had dropped Ned off at the station a couple of minutes ago and were almost back to the apartment, and normally Tony would write off Peter’s worries and try and make a joke to distract him, but his son sounded genuinely concerned, and Tony was pretty shaken from what Pepper had told him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony sighed, biting his lip. “I’m okay, just worried about you. After what happened today at school and a conversation I had with Pep, I’m… concerned. About our old life. I don’t want to keep you in the dark, but I don’t want to worry you.” He took a deep breath, frowning slightly. “Just know that Pep and I are taking care of it.” He walked into the elevator at the apartment, sparing a glance at Peter when he pressed the button for their floor. Peter was staring at the ground, arms wrapped around himself. “I- you’re safe, okay? Don’t think you aren’t because you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would never let you get hurt.” Tony fiddled with his keys as the elevator came to a stop, getting their apartment key in hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about you?” Tony blinked, frowning to himself. If he wasn’t focussing, he wouldn’t be able to hear Peter’s barely-whispered question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, no need to worry about me, kiddo.” Tony nudged Peter with his elbow, stepping out of the elevator. “I’ll be fine. I can look out for myself, I’m an adult or whatever.” He stuck his tongue out, winking at Peter. “Now, think you can help me drop these boxes off at James’ doorstep and ding-dong ditch him?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter smiled weakly and nodded, following Tony down the hall to their apartment. “Sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony nodded, handing Peter the two boxes. “That’s the spirit, kiddo.” He ruffled Peter’s hair, digging a business card out of his pocket. “I love you- you know that, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter laughed, swatting at Tony’s hand in his hair. “Yeah, I know dad.” Tony smiled at him, comforted by his son’s smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, good.” He stopped outside their apartment, sliding his key in the lock. “Alright, drop the boxes, slide this business card under the door-” He handed Peter the business card, winking. “Then knock and we’ll run inside. Sound good?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter chuckled, nodding once, determined. “Yeah, sounds good.” He set the two boxes outside James’ door, grabbing the business card from Tony’s hand. He slid it under the crack of the door, backing up towards Tony. “Ready?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony unlocked the door, smiling at his son’s antics. “Yeah, go for it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter smirked and knocked twice on the door, rushing inside the apartment once he had finished. Tony rolled his eyes playfully, shutting the door after he entered their home. “Hey, you have homework? I’m thinking we should do pizza and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Star Wars</span>
  </em>
  <span> tonight, but you have to have your homework done.” Tony set his keys in the small bowl next to the door, dropping his backpack next to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m on it! I’ll be done in an hour!” Tony watched as Peter rushed off to his room, laughing softly at the boy. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What a day.</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Memories</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>WOWZA! An update... one year later. There's been a lot that's gone on over the last year, as I'm sure all of you readers know and have experienced. I'm so sorry for taking so long to update, but I truly hope that you enjoy this chapter... I almost doubled the word count of this fic to make up for my time away!<br/>Today's chapter title is from the song Memories by P!ATD.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>              <em>“-not ready for a mission, yet-” Everything was dark and blurred, and Bucky felt like he was watching the scene playing out in front of him from far away. He could tell that his body was strapped down to a table, head held back by a tight strap, a metal left arm in place of his real left arm resting on a metal exam table… but he wasn’t in control of his movements or mind. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>              “-ready. He has to be. Romanoff, take him…. Operation….” Bucky tried to struggle, but his body wouldn’t obey his orders. He felt like he was fighting against something, or rather someone, who had invaded his body… someone that felt very cold.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              “Soldat.” Bucky could feel his head snap up to attention, the bar across his forehead now gone. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              “Gotovy podchinit'sya.” The words left his lips, and Bucky could feel himself saying something, could hear his voice speaking- but he wasn’t trying to speak. He realized in that moment that he was powerless.</em>
</p>
<p>             </p>
<p>James gasped awake, drenched in sweat, shaking violently. <em>Ready to comply. Ready to comply to what?</em> He wiped his hand across his face, swallowing down the nausea that hit him instantly. He could… he could remember. For the first time since he was found almost two months ago, he could remember what he had dreamt vividly, in a disconnected sort of way. He knew he had dreamt of his body on a table, but it felt like he was watching the ordeal from far away. He briefly considered that it could be some strange dream his brain had concocted to fill in the gaps of his memory that he longed to recover- <em>he just wanted to know why he was like this-</em> but dismissed that idea immediately. His dream had used Russian, and he had the translation in his mind the moment he woke up, but he didn’t know Russian. That, and James didn’t refer to himself as Bucky, it made him uncomfortable, so why would he refer to himself as Bucky in a dream unless it was a memory?</p>
<p>He was suddenly extremely grateful that it was Thursday, his therapy day with Sam. This dream was a big deal, even he knew that- and he really wasn’t much of an expert about these things. If he was starting to remember, even if it was a small memory, that could mean that other things could start coming back. Maybe Sam could decipher what the memory meant, or why it was suddenly starting to come back now. James shook his head, the idea of revisiting his memory causing the nausea to come back in full force. He stumbled out of bed and to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, barely making it to his toilet before he emptied his stomach, arm shaking weakly from its position, holding up his weight against the white porcelain of the toilet. He was thankful that he slept with his hair up, since there was no knowing what state he would be in when he woke up on any given day, and James was the first to say that it was better to play it safe rather than sorry.</p>
<p>He stayed curled on the tile floor next to the toilet, cheek pressed against the edge of the bowl, for what felt like mere minutes, but, he later realized, was more like two hours. Winter had followed him into the bathroom when he jolted out of bed but had kept his distance and stayed curled up in the bathroom doorway for the duration of James’ panic attack. It was one of his worst, and when it was over he was once again thankful that he had an appointment with Sam for that morning, because this was something he clearly needed to get out. James stood on shaky legs once he could manage to and quickly stripped off his clothes, getting into his shower to try and get rid of the memories, as well as the sweat and nausea that accompanied them.</p>
<p>After he had stayed in the shower long enough for the water to run cold, James climbed out reluctantly and got dressed in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He would have rather just worn sweats and stayed inside most of the day, but he had to see Sam, and he felt a sort of obligation to the man to try and be dressed in normal clothes for their meetings, even though Sam had told him multiple times that it was most important for him to be comfortable- James viewed it as a respect thing. That being said, he could barely manage to wear anything nicer than jeans, things tailored to his body made him feel wrong, like he was supposed to be doing something different… <em>something dangerous? </em>But he didn’t know what. It was like having a sense of urgency but forgetting what you were trying to complete, which left him feeling anxious and confused, so jeans were about as far as he’d go.</p>
<p>He examined his features in the mirror once he was dressed, frowning at the bags under his eyes and his less-than-impressive appearance. For a man who only reintegrated into society about three weeks ago, he was definitely doing better than expected, but a part of him yearned to just be… <em>normal</em>. He knew normal wasn’t necessarily a good thing- Sam had told him that it was okay for him to not be normal, to just be James, but there were days when he didn’t even know who James was, and today was starting to feel like one of those days.</p>
<p>He sighed and pulled away from the mirror reluctantly, then brushed through the wet tangles of his hair haphazardly with a brush. Once the strands were untangled he pulled his hair into a bun, out of the way of his face, which was pretty much how he always wore it. The rough start to his morning had really thrown him off- switching his routine around was something he still struggled with doing. One of the things he had become used to during his month in the hospital after he was discovered was routine, so he took that minor comfort and translated it to his life living alone. To voluntarily switch the routine around still made him hesitate and gave him that same… <em>unfinished</em> feeling he got from wearing tailored clothes. James ran a hand down his face, took a deep breath, and carefully pulled on his prosthetic arm, then clipped Winter’s leash to the collar he was wearing. Winter seemed excited that they were moving around, but still kissed James’ hand curiously, as if asking if he was okay. The man forced a smile and scratched behind Winter’s ear. Even if he wasn’t in the best shape, having Winter around was good. It was better than living alone.</p>
<p>James pulled his backpack on, then pocketed his phone, wallet, and keys. This first excursion would be short- just to let Winter do his business and grab his mail- he would go on his longer walk to the appointment by way of the disgusting coffee shop a little later. A glance at the clock on his wall told him it was only seven in the morning, which meant he still had almost three hours before he even had to leave. Even though he was only going to be gone for ten minutes at the most, he was the type of person who felt extreme anxiety if he didn’t leave with everything he would need to survive for at least a week, and as strange as that was, it never did him wrong.</p>
<p>Once he was ready and had everything he needed James opened the door, stopping in confusion when he noticed the two white boxes in front of his door. He took a step back and was surprised to see the business card that had been slid under his door. He tilted his head and pulled the boxes inside, picked the business card up, and closed the door behind him. He walked to the kitchen and set the boxes on the counter, then inspected the business card. It was bright red and had the words <em>“Iron Maiden”</em> inscribed in big, cursive, yellow letters. Under the business name, there was an email, phone number, address, and the name <em>“Tony Parker”,</em> also inscribed in yellow cursive. Tony… like his Tony? No, not “his” Tony, <em>he didn’t have a Tony, where the hell did that thought come from?</em> James gave an exhausted sigh and flipped the business card around, frowning in suspicion, then turned to the boxes. They were both white pastry boxes, but one was larger than the other. He opened the smaller one first, smiling wide at the pile of cinnamon roll cookies inside. He snorted out a short laugh then opened the larger box, eyebrow raising at the bone-shaped cookies inside. There was a small note that accompanied the treats, with <em>“For Winter”</em> scribbled on it. He smirked and took one out, holding it out for the corgi to eat. His dog sniffed it cautiously then took it from James’ hand, tail wagging rapidly. James smiled as he watched Winter eat the treat eagerly, taking one of the cinnamon roll cookies for himself.</p>
<p>Tony was a subject that had lingered at the back of his mind for the past day. The man was kind, funny, and downright adorable. He made James smile, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he did that. His kid was sweet, too. James’ main interactions with civilians had been them eyeing his prosthetic warily and then rushing through any conversation, clearly either afraid of him or not interested in continuing their exchange. He leaned against his kitchen counter as he took a bite out of the cookie, staring at the business card on the counter. Maybe once he had gotten his mail he could give the shop a call and try and reach Tony? It would probably be best to not thank him in person, especially since it was clear from yesterday’s interaction that Tony and Peter are pretty rushed in the morning. James smiled at the thought and finished the cookie, then knelt down to grab Winter’s leash. It was decided- he would get the mail, drop the mail off at his apartment, give the shop a call, then walk to his appointment with Winter by way of the disgusting coffee shop. Yes, it was another change to his routine, but he decided that this change was more than worth it.</p>
<p>James went for the door, holding Winter’s leash in hand, backpack still on. He quickly locked the door behind him and began down the stairs to the first floor, lost in thought. When had he last been this excited? More importantly, why did Tony make him this excited? He realized passively as he fumbled with the keys to unlock his mailbox that it might be because Tony gives and expects nothing in return. He had been kind to James and hadn’t expected any kindness to be given back to him. Steve expected James to convey ‘Bucky-isms’ whenever he reached out via letter, but that was one thing that James just couldn’t give. Other conversations weren’t substantial enough to have a give-and-take expectation, and James didn’t count his interactions with Sam as give-and-take either. Sam just wanted him to fit into modern society, he didn’t want anything in return. That being said, he also got paid pretty heavily by the military to perform those interactions, so that much was expected of him. The point was… Tony was <em>different.</em> A good, intriguing, <em>completely wonderful</em> type of different, and James couldn’t wait to explore that further.</p>
<p>He glanced at the mail in his hand as he made his way back to his apartment, eyebrows raising in surprise to see that he had a letter from Steve. The rest of the letters were mostly junk, sans the weekly letter he got from the military, but those were all the same. They always included a poorly written apology, followed by any new information they had found out about the people who captured him. They were addressed to Bucky, just like Steve’s letters were, and Sam had told him not to feel obligated to read the military letters. If they had something important to tell him, Sam said they would call him or visit him personally. The letters were just their way of covering their asses. He trusted Sam, so the letters often went into a pile of junk mail to be shredded later. Once he got back to his apartment, got Winter off his leash, and briefly sorted through then properly disposed of the rest of his mail, he sat on his couch and stared at the envelope in his hand, Steve’s neat script adorning the crumpled white paper. He <em>really</em> didn’t want to open the envelope, but he felt required to. Steve was (apparently) his best friend, what kind of guy would he be if he didn’t at least try to reciprocate that friendship? With a sigh of defeat, James ripped the envelope open and dug the two folded pages out, scanning over the contents, swallowing back any nervous nausea that sprung up the second he saw the name.</p>
<p>
  <em>Bucky, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I’ve missed you so much. Thanks to the expedited shipping I’ve already received your package, it means a lot that you always remember when I need new charcoal and paper, pal. I trust that you’ve been reading the updates that the government has been sending out, I’m sorry that we haven’t found any new information about your captors. We’ve been trying our best- the guys and I all got brought in to help out after we gave our reports and the big shots realized that we were the ones that saved you. We’ve been up day and night busting known headquarters from the map we got when we found you, but there’s only been goons working there, no one who actually knows who’s in charge and where they’re located. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>All that to say, the guys and I have been hard at work, and we’ve been granted a week off, coming up in just over a week, August 16th to the 22nd. The rest of the squad are all heading home to their ladies or families, but I thought I would come back to you, since we’re such great pals and I haven’t gotten to spend quality time with you for a little over two years. I can’t wait to catch up and see how you’ve decorated that place you got set up with. I bet you’ve been up to a lot, but I’m sure you have enough time to spare for your old friend Steve. Maybe we can even stimulate some of your memories and get you back to the Bucky I know and<strike> love</strike> miss. I sent a drawing of us from one of my favorite memories- the night before you shipped out after first enlisting. I thought maybe it would remind you of our relationship a little more. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>See you soon, Buck. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>-Steve </em>
</p>
<p>James swallowed down the bile that rose from reading the letter, discarding the paper on his coffee table with a shaking hand. He then carefully unfolded the other sheet, examining the drawing Steve sent. It was smudged a little, but not enough that he couldn’t make out the intricate details sketched with care- the innocent smile on a much more sickly looking Steve <em>(but that couldn’t be right, the Steve he knew was all muscle, and to his knowledge, always was), </em>and a sly smirk on a face that looked so much like his own, but one he just couldn’t identify with. The man in the photo had a personality built on years of memories and clearly admired the boy he was hugging in the drawing, but James’ personality was built on the past experiences that could poke through the cracks in the cement prison walls holding in his memories, and the everlasting fear that someone could find where he lived now, decide he was valuable enough, then capture him again and finish whatever job they started. The man in the drawing was naive, the man in the drawing was Bucky. James was <em>not</em> Bucky.</p>
<p>He sat in that spot on the couch, fist steadily closing around the drawing in his hand, for almost an hour. His thoughts raced about the contents of the letter, the sudden expectations he was given: to have a clean apartment, to do more in a day than walk Winter and swoon over Tony- <em>to be Bucky</em>. He only stopped when Winter nosed at his hand expectantly, licking cautiously as if to ask if he could help somehow. This got James out of whatever existential crisis he had fallen into, as well as reminded him that he had at least one person who liked him for who he was. Well, not really a person, but the point was still valid. The first thing he noticed when he came out of his stupor was the drawing in his hand, paper now crushed into a ball and the charcoal that had previously adorned the page now coating his palm.</p>
<p>James sighed and slowly stood up, walking to the nearby kitchen sink to clean up. On his way he dropped the paper ball into his recycling bin, hoping that Steve wouldn’t ask about it when he visited. After cleaning up and splashing some water on his face to fully come back to himself, James grabbed his phone and typed out a quick text to Sam.</p>
<p>              <em>James (8:37 am)- Bad day. </em></p>
<p>
  <em>              Sam (8:38 am)- This early? Shit. My 10 am canceled, are you up for a two hour session?</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              James (8:40 am)- Yes. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              Sam (8:40 am)- Do you need to call? My 7:40 am is getting her things together, I’ll be free to talk in a sec? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              James (8:41 am) - No. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              Sam (8:41 am)- Can I at least get a warning for what to expect? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              James (8:43 am)- I had a memory/dream. From when I was away. </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              James (8:44 am)- (Click to open image) </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              Sam (8:47 am)- Okay. If you can’t call then I want you to text me 5 things you can see, 4 things you can feel, 3 things you can hear, 2 things you can smell, then 1 thing you can taste. Take your time. I won’t be able to answer right away because I have my 8:50 am starting, but we can talk about it when you get here. Once you’re done I want you to pack up for our appointment and mobile order ahead for your shitty SI coffee you always get. That way you don’t really have to talk to anyone, but you can still keep your routine. We’ll talk more once you get here. </em>
</p>
<p>James read Sam’s message and took a deep, long breath, trying his best to focus on the task at hand. Eventually, after what felt like forever, he was able to list out everything Sam asked for and send the text.</p>
<p>
  <em>              James (8:58 am)- See: Tony’s business card, my couch, Winter, my backpack, my prosthetic. Feel: My socks, the carpet, the countertop, Winter’s fur. Hear: The leaves outside rustling, my sink dripping water, my typing. Smell: Tony’s cinnamon cookies, dust from my boxes. Taste: Sour. </em>
</p>
<p>              After he sent the message he slid his phone into his pocket, gripping the countertop for a moment more to ground himself before beginning the other tasks Sam told him to do. Sometimes, if all else failed, James could function best under a set of orders. Sam knew this, which, he guessed, is why he gave him a list of things to do that would fill the rest of the time before his updated appointment time. Slowly but surely, he gathered the various things he would need for the next few hours out, the items that had been discarded at the door when he was distracted by the mail. He tucked the letter from Steve into his backpack, bagged up some of the treats for Winter from Tony to-go, got Winter’s leash on, made sure he had all of his essentials, then left the apartment, slipping Tony’s business card into his pocket on his way out. As he made his way out of the apartment complex and into the busy streets of New York, he realized that he was already feeling much calmer than he had been just 15 minutes before- he thought absently that it was strange that being instructed to do certain things made all of his troubles go away, but maybe that was just his personality from before melding with his personality now.</p>
<p>
  <em>Yeah, that had to be it. </em>
</p>
<p>              The 20-minute walk to the park that James frequented was blessedly uneventful. It was geographically a midpoint between his apartment and Sam’s office, and was across the street from a Stark Industries, which gave him the perfect opportunity to order his overpriced vanilla latte with burnt espresso without making it a huge time-wasting distraction from his main goal of getting to his therapy appointment. As he stood in the park next to a bush, in a strategic spot so he wouldn’t draw much attention, he was suddenly incredibly grateful that Sam had taught him how to order via the S.I. app, because opening it for the first time in a week showed him that it was incredibly overcomplicated and meant to be used by people who actually understood how cellphones worked. Thankfully, Sam had just saved his usual order in three different sizes to his “favorites” tab, so he could just click on whatever size he wanted, add it to his cart, select the only “favorite” location, then checkout, the app linked with his bank account so that it could auto-reload if he was out of money.</p>
<p>              Once James had allowed Winter about ten minutes to sniff around the bushes, he began the walk across the street to the Stark Industries. Walking into the coffee shop an hour earlier than usual raised some internal anxiety, but that left as quickly as it came when he was able to grab his drink from the counter, skip any conversation, and leave the store to resume his walk to Sam’s office. Everything was so convenient- he couldn’t remember anything about his old life being convenient, but he supposed that Bucky had to have experienced some of these daily conveniences since that version of himself was alive just two years before, and clearly these things that made life so much easier had to have been around for a while. The rest of his walk to the appointment was as uneventful as the first part of his journey, which he figured was fitting, since this extended appointment was likely going to be anything but.</p>
<p>              He arrived outside Sam’s door at 9:55 am, just in time for Sam to return from the office’s “coffee bar”, which was really just a Stark Industries brand coffee machine, Stark Industries coffee pods for the machine, and some packets of sweetener. Sam welcomed him into his office with his usual kind smile and joke about James being reliable, but his furrowed brows and thinly-veiled expression gave away that the man was extremely concerned for James’ well-being. It wouldn’t take a sniper to see that Sam was tense, something the man almost never was, which told James that this was going to be a rough appointment.</p>
<p>He was right.</p>
<p>              The two hours passed quickly, and were full of Sam gently prompting him to recount his dream/memory as he made detailed notes, Sam walking him through how Steve’s letter was actually extremely narcissistic and that he shouldn’t feel at all required to house a man he hardly knew, and then ending on a slightly more positive note, where James was prompted to talk through his brief experience with Tony and Peter, and the surprise treats that showed up at his door following the interaction, which Sam called “a very positive interaction” that James “should do everything to continue”. The appointment ended with Sam giving Winter some belly rubs while he encouraged James to stop by Iron Maiden on his way back to the apartment, explaining that it would only be about a 5 minute detour and just a block past his usual route. He continued this encouragement by explaining that if James really felt something towards Tony- whether that was friendship or something further- he should at least try and build a relationship with the man outside of being neighbors.</p>
<p>              James always felt a bit of emotional instability after his appointments. He also often felt like he could’ve talked to Sam for much longer than the given amount of time. These two feelings still rang true today, even with the hour extension on the appointment. Sam gave him homework too, as he always did, but this week’s homework was a bit different: to thank Tony in person for the surprise treats, and spark up a conversation with the man. Maybe it was childish of him, but the thought of talking to Tony made his stomach flutter and gave him a bit of hope for the rest of the day’s events. Maybe his not-so-great day would get a bit better, aided by human interaction that wasn’t with a barista or his therapist.</p>
<p>              As Sam suggested, his walk to Iron Maiden really wasn’t that much of a detour at all, and all he  had to do was follow Sam’s walking instructions, instructions that he was thankful for because that meant that he didn’t have to use his phone GPS, a tool he was still struggling to understand. From the outside, the shop gave off an almost magical glow, which made it stand out against the other almost identical storefronts. While the strip of shops looked almost exactly the same from the outside, James could tell there was something special about the place the second he stepped in. The almost-maroon side walls against the black back wall would be too dark in any other context, but with the bright chalk scribbled against the black, the teal furniture scattered around the room, and the yellow front wall reflecting against the glass in the back, all mixed together with yellow-tinted lighting, the cafe just felt... <em>homey</em>. Its scent of the small shop definitely supported the “home” feeling the cafe was trying to give off. The smells of fresh-baked treats, black coffee, and campfire invaded James’ senses the moment he stepped inside, which was probably an explanation for his distraction.</p>
<p>              He didn’t recognize her at first. Why would he? She was nobody to him. Her back was facing the store as he walked up to the counter, which was an easy excuse for why he didn’t bolt immediately when he saw her fiery red hair and slim figure. He didn’t even notice when she turned to look at him, too enamored with the treats in the pastry case that he crouched down to get a better look at, but the sound of her voice violently brought him back to himself.</p>
<p>              “Welcome to Iron Maiden, how can I help-” She stopped speaking when James stood up straight, her face going visibly pale and her expression turning into one of fear. “-you.”</p>
<p>              “You’re… you were-” His eyes immediately welled with tears and he took a shaky breath, his grip on Winter’s leash tightening.</p>
<p>              “Soldat, please spare me. I have reformed and I live a completely different life now, under a different name. I no longer wish to follow Hydra’s plan.” She seemed genuinely terrified of him as she backed up against the chalkboard wall, and her reaction just served to send him further into an anxiety attack.</p>
<p>              <em>Romanoff.</em> The same woman from his dream. The same woman who made him speak Russian. He could feel bile rising as the woman stepped further back, towards what he assumed was the door to the back kitchen. A man emerged from the back, dirty blonde hair dusted with flour and black apron a mess. James quickly scanned him, frozen in place as he panicked and tried to find ways to escape. He was tall, muscular, had hearing aids in, and spoke with a gravelly voice. “Hey Nat- oh.” He stumbled as he bumped into the woman, eyebrows raising. “Oh, uh, hey Nat. Tony said he’ll be back in an hour or so. Are you okay?” The woman ducked into the back room and the man looked up at him, expression confused. “Hey man, can I help you?”</p>
<p>              James took the opportunity to escape the cafe, scooping Winter under his right arm and dashing out of the front door and down the street as fast as he could, not caring about if he looked like a crazy man. He was back to his apartment complex in record time, breathing heavily as tears cascaded down his face. He stumbled up the stairs to his floor then set Winter onto the ground to walk on his own as he struggled with a shaking hand to find his keys then make his unsteady legs walk to his door, apartment number 409. Eventually, after what felt like hours of struggling, his door opened and he toppled inside his apartment, closing the door behind him with a slam. He slid his backpack off, let go of Winter’s leash, then fell against the back of the door, heavy sobs racking his body. The woman- Romanoff- being there, at his Tony’s shop, suggested so much, too much for him to mentally sort through.</p>
<p>              Was Tony associated with the people who captured him? What about the shaggy guy who came to Romanoff’s aid? Why was the woman so afraid of him? He had every reason to be scared of her. And why was she suddenly not only in America, but approximately ten minutes from what was supposed to be his safe place? Why would Tony hire someone so… bad? On the other hand, Romanoff did say that she had “reformed” and to “spare” her, maybe she thought James had been sent to the cafe to kill her? Was that what he was doing for the two years he was gone? The thought made him gag. His thoughts continued to spiral more and more for the next few hours, until Winter eventually barked loud enough to bring him out of his stupor.</p>
<p>              He used the rest of his energy to weakly make his way to the shower and clean off the sweat, tears, and vomit that covered his body, putting his clothes directly into the washing machine in his apartment and starting the load on his way. After he was properly dried off and his hair was pulled into a bun, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a large sweatshirt, then took Winter’s leash and walked him outside. Once he was finished James made his way back upstairs and crawled into bed, allowing his thoughts from before to haunt him once again.</p>
<p>              This pattern of barely eating, taking Winter out as needed, and hunkering down in his apartment continued through Friday and Saturday, until Sam eventually texted him on Sunday morning and asked how things had gone.</p>
<p>              <em>Sam (Sunday, August 10th, 11:15 am): Hey James! How was your stop at Iron Maiden? Did you get that conversation started with Tony like we talked about? </em></p>
<p>
  <em>              James (11:18 am): call? </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>              Sam (11:19 am): That bad, huh? Calling now. </em>
</p>
<p>              The call came in at 11:20 am, and James picked up immediately. “Hi.” He knew he sounded like shit- days of crying, screaming into his pillow, and hyperventilating would do that to a voice. Logically, he knew he was safe after the first few hours of freaking out. But after he settled into a semi-peaceful headspace, something else would cause the panicked response to begin again. It was a bad couple of days.</p>
<p>              “Jesus Christ, James. What happened? You sound like shit, man” Sam’s questioning made James’ breath hitch, and he could feel the tears starting to form. Under normal circumstances he supposed he would be embarrassed over the crying, but with only a knowledge that men weren’t supposed to cry and no memory of having that societal expectation ingrained in him over many years, he didn’t bother conforming to it. Sam’s panicked voice came in response to James’ emotional reaction. “Fuck, okay, sorry. Just take your time, what’s going through your head?”</p>
<p>              James took a long, deep breath, then began to speak, taking pauses often to keep his voice as steady as possible. “I went to Iron Maiden, like you said to do, after our appointment. I was already in pretty bad shape, I mean a little better from the appointment, but y’know, still not great, but then I saw someone-” he stopped for a moment, not only to take a deep breath, but to also make sure he was doing the right thing. After about two and a half days of mulling it over, he didn’t want to give away that Romanoff knew who he was, or that she was the woman in his memory. If she was telling the truth and had truly reformed and wanted to live a normal life, what type of person was he to tell Sam that she was once connected to Hydra? He trusted Sam with many things, but he also knew that Sam wrote weekly reports to the government based on their appointments and wrote emergency reports if any memories came up. This would count as more than an emergency report, so much so that he knew that if he told Sam exactly what had happened, Iron Maiden would be infested with feds before it closed for the night.</p>
<p>              “- I saw someone who reminded me of the woman in my dream. I got scared and left the cafe before I could ask to see Tony. I’ve been… spiraling, I think is what you call it, ever since.” He sniffed once, then ran a hand through Winter’s fur, who was conveniently laying down next to James on the bed.</p>
<p>              “That woman seems like a pretty big trigger for you. I’m so sorry you had to experience that, James. You did the right thing by removing yourself from the situation, but I think we should add some more ways to cope with triggers to your learning goals, does that sound okay to you?” Sam’s response was soft and kind, but firm in its affirmations.</p>
<p>              James sighed softly. “Yeah, that’s okay.”</p>
<p>              He could practically hear Sam’s relief over the phone. “Great! Now you said you didn’t get to see Tony the other day, right? Do you think you’re up to seeing him today?”</p>
<p>              James swallowed down his nervousness, then responded, slightly hesitant. Over the last two and a half days, he had made the decision to give Tony the benefit of the doubt. He probably didn’t know that he had employed someone with her background, and well, if he did, James would cross that bridge when they got to it. “I- I think I could do that.”</p>
<p>              “That’s great to hear, dude!” Sam’s genuinely excited response built James’ confidence up, even if it was only by a little. “Why don’t you shower, get some real food in you, take Winter out, then see how you’re feeling around one? You can take as much time as you need, and don’t feel pressured to do it today, but after a couple days of spiraling and keeping mostly to yourself, going out into the world is a great way to build yourself back up.”</p>
<p>              The instructions for what to do, per usual, helped to calm James down. “I can do that, yeah.”</p>
<p>              “Awesome! If you have any questions, need any help, or if you just want to talk, I’m here. Just a text or call away.”</p>
<p>              “I know. Thanks, Sam.”</p>
<p>              “Anytime James. Have a good rest of your day, don’t forget to update me!”</p>
<p>              “I won’t forget. Don’t have much stuff taking up room in the ol’ memory, can’t really forget nothin’ I haven’t already forgotten.” Over the phone, James could hear Sam stifle a laugh, which took the form of Sam’s signature “throat-clear-deep-breath” before speaking next.</p>
<p>              “Whatever you say, man. Talk later!”</p>
<p>              “Bye.” James hung up the phone and slowly sat up, wincing as his sore muscles fought back. Yeah, a nice hot shower was definitely in order. He stood slowly and stumbled to his bathroom, stripping his clothes off and stepping into the shower immediately. All things considered, he lived in a fairly nice building- that is, in his mind, an apartment’s worth was based on if it had an in-unit washer and dryer and if its hot water came quickly, which were both qualities his apartment had. That, and the landlord wasn’t nosey, which was a huge relief… he was a walking attention-grabber, not having to worry about a boundary-breaking landlord was something he was incredibly grateful for.</p>
<p>              The first thing he noticed once he was out of his almost 40-minute shower was the awful taste of his dry mouth, which made him realize that he hadn’t brushed his teeth since Thursday. He promptly dried off his dripping body then brushed his teeth, already starting to feel much more human. James allowed himself a look in the mirror once he had finished brushing his teeth, surprised at the light scruff that had started to grow in. He didn’t hate how it looked… in fact, he realized that he liked it quite a lot. It made him look different in a good way, in a comfortable way. In his mind, it set him apart from what Bucky looked like, so he decided in that moment that he would keep growing it out and see what it looked like in a couple of days. He stepped out of the bathroom and put on his prosthetic, then got dressed in some of his more comfortable clothing: gray joggers, a black worn t-shirt with a white faded picture of the New York skyline, and black shoes called “Vans”, which he hadn’t gotten to researching yet, but it was apparently a cool company with the kids… whatever that meant.</p>
<p>              The next thing he did, per Sam’s orders, was warm up a frozen meal. As he waited for the meal to finish cooking in the microwave, he realized that the pit in his stomach wasn’t sadness or nervousness or any other emotion, it was hunger. Yeah, he really needed to learn some better coping mechanisms. The beeping of the microwave pulled him out of his momentary distracted thought, and the wonderful scent of real food made him grab the tray out of the microwave and remove the film, stomach now growling intensely. He scarfed down the food while it was still in the small black plastic tray, giving Winter a small bite of the chicken meal that he had decided to make.</p>
<p>With food in his stomach, clean clothing on, and more energy than he had had in days, he was suddenly much more excited about the prospect of seeing Tony and having an interaction with the man longer than a couple of minutes. With this reinvigorated mindset, he rushed to get Winter’s leash on and gathered all of his items into his backpack, trying to get through the tasks Sam gave him as fast as possible. When everything was packed away in his backpack and Winter was ready to go, he left the apartment, careful to lock the door as he did. Once he was outside, James took his time to walk Winter around the block and take a breath of fresh air, enjoying the sun that came with a mid-August day. After about 20 minutes outside, James left the streets to return to his apartment, feeling more relaxed than he had been in days. <em>Nothing can last long for him though, can it?</em></p>
<p>              The first thing James saw after climbing the stairs was a pair of middle-aged individuals standing outside of his apartment, which snapped him into ‘fight or flight’ mode almost immediately. The one closest to his door was a woman who looked to be in her mid-to-late thirties with strawberry blonde hair pulled into a messy bun. She wore a gray striped pantsuit and held what looked to be a rather expensive black purse in one hand, the other holding a cell phone. Tucked under her right arm was a large box wrapped with blue and green paper and topped with a large yellow bow. The man standing next to her, closer to Tony’s door, was a muscular man who looked a bit older, easily in his mid-forties. He had a wide smile that made the sides of his eyes crinkle, and was also carrying a gift in his hands, although this one was in a bag and decorated with purple and yellow swirls. James’ eyebrows furrowed in thought. They didn’t seem dangerous, especially considering that both their hands were full and they seemed distracted. Not completely ready to write off the threat, yet convinced now that threat wasn’t imminent, James forced himself to relax and walk to his door.</p>
<p>              Halfway down the hallway, James was startled by Tony’s door swinging open, and when he looked over to investigate, he smiled and relaxed at the sight of an excited Peter standing in the doorway. “Uncle Rhodey! Aunt Pepper! Hi!” Peter grinned and embraced them both, practically bouncing up and down. “You’re just in time for the next round of Mario Kart! Dad’s been busy cooking and it’s not as fun with only three of us playing. C’mon!” He tugged the sleeve of the man- <em>Rhodey’s</em>- coat, groaning as Rhodey reached a hand up and ruffled his hair.</p>
<p>              “Might be a mistake inviting me to play Mario Kart, man. Y’all are about to get crushed by my mad skills.” He snorted at Peter’s embarrassment and walked inside, disappearing beyond Tony’s entryway.</p>
<p>              “Winter! Mr. James!” James snapped away from watching the scene, smiling sheepishly at Peter.</p>
<p>              “Uh- hey.” He nodded their way, smiling at Winter’s sudden wagging tail. “Seems like Winter wants to” he cleared his throat, blushing at his awkwardness. “-wants to say hi.”</p>
<p>              Peter practically skipped over, leaning down to pet Winter eagerly. “What a good boy!” He made faces at Winter, then looked up to smile at James. “Did you like the treats dad and I dropped off at your door? Dad said meeting you and Winter inspired him to try making dog treats and wanted to know what you thought.” He looked back down at Winter, wearing a goofy smile. “Did you like them, boy?”</p>
<p>              James chuckled at the sight. “Winter loved ‘em. Tell your dad that I liked the cinnamon ones, too. It was sweet of you both to drop ‘em off.”</p>
<p>              “Tony’s a great baker, isn’t he? Haven’t seen him that excited to bake something in years.” James looked over, surprised by the woman- <em>Pepper</em>- suddenly entering the conversation.</p>
<p>              James stuttered over his words for a moment, cheeks growing red. “Oh uh- yeah. He’s great. I’m um, James, by the way. I live here, 409.” He nodded to the door, clearing his throat awkwardly.</p>
<p>              Pepper smiled back at him, seeming confident and not-at-all phased by James’ awkwardness. “It’s nice to meet you. Tony’s already told me a bit about you. I’m Virginia, but everyone calls me Pepper. I bet Tony would love to hear what you thought of the dog treats face-to-face. Peter, would it be okay if James crashed your party for a little bit? I’m sure Tony would be fine with it.”</p>
<p>              James didn’t think it was possible, but it looked as if Peter’s smile doubled in size. “Of course! C’mon in, the more the merrier.” Before James even had a chance to voice his opinion on the matter, he was being pulled inside the apartment by his jacket sleeve by a practically bouncing Peter- but, surprisingly, he didn’t mind. As Peter spoke animatedly to Pepper, James took an opportunity to scan his surroundings.</p>
<p>The inside of the apartment was much more welcoming than his was. The dark wood floors were accented by tan walls, which were decorated with frames that held photos of Tony and Peter (some photos included others as well, James only recognized Pepper and the man Peter called “Rhodey” among the other faces). There were also child’s drawings and some professional art pieces hanging, but those were far fewer in number when compared to the photos on the walls. While the bare bones of the apartment were almost identical to his own, Tony was much better at making it feel like a home. The chairs and sofas were black, a stark contrast against the white tables and frames. The open floor plan allowed for James to see all of the apartment at once- save for the rooms behind closed doors. The black and white furniture translated to the rest of the house as well, and even though the contrasting furniture gave the apartment a “clean” feel, the apartment was also clearly lived in-enough to not make it uncomfortable. What James assumed was Peter’s school bag was propped against the wall of the hallway, just next to the entrance of the kitchen. The table was covered in brightly colored bags and boxes, which were joined by the ones Pepper and Rhodey brought inside. The most enticing thing about the apartment, however, was not how it was decorated. No, it was the different sweet and warm smells that filled James’ senses, and, partly, it was also the man creating them.</p>
<p>“Pep in my step! Just in time, would you bring this to the table for me?” Tony was wearing a bright pink apron and working away in the kitchen, whisking at a bowl with one hand and holding a pitcher of lemonade out for Pepper with the other. Pepper easily balanced the pitcher with the other things in her hands, leaning over to kiss Tony’s cheek.</p>
<p>“Hello, Tony. It’s good to see you too. You have a guest, by the way.” James thought he saw Pepper shoot Tony a wink, but he couldn’t be sure.</p>
<p>Tony stiffened and stopped whisking, turning cautiously towards James. It was only then that James realized he was standing alone in the hallway outside Tony’s kitchen, standing awkwardly. He cleared his throat. “Uh- hi. I um… just wanted to say thank you. You know. For the treats and stuff. That was very-” He cleared his suddenly dry throat, licking his lips. “That was very kind of you.”</p>
<p>With Tony now facing him, James had a much better view of the man. Tony’s hair was sticking up in about twelve different ways, and his hot pink apron read “Kiss My Ass”, which, James suspected, was a play on words for the usual “Kiss the Cook” that was usually on aprons in the TV shows he watched. This was also the first time James had seen Tony without sunglasses on, and Tony’s golden-brown eyes were almost enough to make him swoon. The two stood in silence for a moment, staring at each other, before Tony responded. “James! Hi! Welcome to our home. It’s a bit of a mess right now, it’s Peter’s birthday. A-and it was no problem! Peter and I wanted to welcome you to the floor, and dropping off some treats for you and Winter was a no brainer- but I’m um-” He stuttered, and James could see the slightest blush forming on Tony’s cheeks. “I’m happy you enjoyed them.”</p>
<p>James smiled at the tint on Tony’s cheeks, then processed all of what Tony had just said. <em>Fuck. He was intruding on their party, wasn’t he? That’s why Tony was blushing, it was because he didn’t want to kick him out. </em>“I’m so sorry to intrude, I had no idea it was Peter’s birthday, I should just leave you to it-”</p>
<p>“No!” Tony cut him off, then cleared his throat. “I mean- No, no. Please, stay. We’d love to have you. You’re not intruding at all.”</p>
<p>“But it’s Peter’s birthday, I mean, I don’t even have a gift-” James tried to re-argue his point but was once again cut off by Tony.</p>
<p>“Then you’re gifting us with your presence today, that’s more than enough! Plus, you’ve seen how much Peter loves spending time with Winter, he’s definitely a gift to have around. C’mon. Grab a seat, I can make you some coffee? Or tea?” He led James to a seat at the table, then made his way back to the kitchen, continuing their conversation over the island that separated the kitchen from the dining room. “You seem like a tea guy. What’s your favorite type? It’s basically all Peter drinks, so we’ve got a variety.”</p>
<p>James sat at the table, frozen in a mixture of anxiety and surprise. Choices were hard enough, but to admit that he didn’t know what kind of tea was his favorite, then go down that rabbit hole… it was something he was definitely not in the mood to start. “Oh- um, I don’t-”</p>
<p>“Oh! Let me guess! Let’s see…” Tony stood on his tiptoes to see James’ body over the island, scanning him over slowly. “I’m going to go with an Earl Grey. It’s a black tea, so there’s caffeine, but it’s also not too strong when steeped correctly and has some really nice soft flavors. Am I right?”</p>
<p>James smiled sheepishly, nodding along to Tony’s words. “Uh- yes? Sure. I mean, I haven’t really had it before, but I’d be happy to try?”</p>
<p>Tony feigned a gasp, dramatically placing his right hand over his heart. “You’ve <em>never</em> had Earl Grey tea? That’s a catastrophe. In six minutes, your whole life is going to change for the better, trust me.” Tony winked at James, then turned around to place a kettle on the stove.</p>
<p>James cleared his throat, trying desperately to hide his blush that was brought about from Tony’s not-at-all-subtle flirting. His eyes landed on the Winter, who was laying next to his feet under the table, panting gently. James smiled down at his companion, allowing himself to take a deep, calming breath. Things were just moving <em>so quickly</em>.</p>
<p>His eyes shot up when the woman from before- Pepper- sat down across from him at the table. She directed a gentle smile at him as she placed her phone face-down on the table while simultaneously dropping her purse on the ground. “So, James, Tony tells me you recently moved in? What made you decide to move here?”</p>
<p>James groaned internally at the question, but painted on a polite smile nonetheless. He <em>hated</em> small talk, and the last thing he would want to do is lie about his life, especially if he actually wanted to get to know Tony better. This conversation would inevitably lead to a discussion about his past, which would lead to the ‘I have no idea what’s going on half the time’ admission, which would probably end whatever flicker of a friendship he had going on here. He took a deep breath, moving his hand to fiddle with a stray string hanging off of his shirt sleeve. “It’s a bit of a long story, actually. One that I…” He paused in his sentence and forced himself to recall Sam’s advice from a past appointment, trying to quote his therapist word-for-word. “One that I am not comfortable getting into at the moment. The short version is that I just moved here at the start of the month after being honorably discharged from the Army in June.” He praised his response inwardly, making a note to share with Sam that he was only minorly anxious answering that question, which was much better than the major anxiety attack he faced less than a month ago when <em>thinking</em> about answering a question like that.</p>
<p>“Thank you for sharing with me, James, and thank you for your service. Y’know, Rhodey is in the Air Force. I don’t know too much about the military- that is, not much outside of what Rhodey’s told me and whatever concerns have come up in my job- I work for Stark Industries as a manager, my job is boring and hard to explain so I won’t go on about the specifics, but-“</p>
<p>“Pepper, darling, ease up on him.” Tony came over to the table, two mugs in his hands. He placed one in front of Pepper and the other in front of James, shooting the man a gentle smile. He turned back to Pepper as he sat down. “You don’t get out nearly enough, Pep. You ought to get Obie to give you some time off- I mean, you practically carry the company anyways, it’s not like you don’t deserve it.”</p>
<p>Pepper laughed, taking a sip out of her mug. “Oh Tony, don’t start. You’re the one that’s at the bakery all hours of the day every day of the week.” James slowly relaxed as the two began to banter about how the other needed to take better care of themselves. He let himself drop Winter’s leash finally to pick up the mug Tony placed in front of him, then gingerly sipped at the steaming contents. His eyes lit up in surprise. The tea was even better than Tony had described it- and <em>dammit, why didn’t he have any of this in his own apartment? It would definitely save him a ton of money that he spent getting that overpriced shitty vanilla latte at Stark Industries every time he stepped out of his apartment-</em></p>
<p>“I take it you like the tea, James?” James looked up from his tea to see Tony smiling gently at him, and James’ thoughts stuttered. How on <em>earth</em> could there be a man this attractive in the world who wasn’t already, at least from anything he could discern from his interactions, in a relationship with someone? That point was made more evident by the whisp of flour in his dark hair and the dot of red frosting that was smeared against his forehead.</p>
<p>James blushed, realizing he had been quiet for far longer than was appropriate, then nodded. “Yes- it’s much better than anything I’ve ever had. I think I might have to replace my daily garbage Stark Industries Vanilla Latte with a cup of this…”</p>
<p>Tony grinned at him, cheeks rosy. “I knew I liked you for a reason.” He stared at James for a moment, then broke his concentration when a timer in the kitchen went off. “That’s the pizza.” He turned towards the living room, raising his voice slightly. “Food’s up in five! I expect clean hands from you heathens!” He smiled back at James and Pepper, rolling his eyes at the angry shouts from the living room. “Sounds like Rhodey just kicked their ass in Mario Kart. I’ll be right back with the pizza.” As Tony left the table for the kitchen, the kids and Rhodey came walking into the room, the kids arguing with each other as Rhodey wore a cocky smile.</p>
<p>“Ned, if you hadn’t come in last minute with that blue shell, we would’ve won the game!” Peter groaned and took a seat at James’ left, crossing his arms.</p>
<p>“Peter, it was 1V1, and it wouldn’t have mattered anyways because winning the round doesn’t equal winning the game, you know that.” A young girl with curly hair spoke from her seat across from Peter, eyebrow cocked. James noticed the hint of a blush on Peter’s cheeks, clearly caused by the girl’s words.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I know that MJ, but it at least would’ve gotten us <em>closer</em> to beating Rhodey.” Peter buried his face in his hands and shook his head slowly.</p>
<p>Rhodey laughed. “Must feel pretty shitty to lose to a guy who’s older than your dad, Peterman.” Rhodey ruffled Peter’s hair, which was immediately met by protests from Peter, and laughing from the two kids his age- who James had come to understand were Ned and MJ. Rhodey sat down on Peter’s left, gently bumping the boy’s shoulder. “You know I’m just teasing, Peter. You totally kicked my ass more than usual. Must be the ‘15<sup>th</sup> Birthday’ energy.” He winked at Peter, then nodded to James. “We haven’t been properly introduced yet. My name is James Rhodes, but you can call me Rhodey.”</p>
<p>Rhodey smiled at James, who offered a weak smile back. “My name is James Barnes; I just go by James. Nice to meet you. Pepper tells me that you’re in the Air Force?”</p>
<p>The other man nodded, opening his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Tony before he had the opportunity to. “Alright. I hope you’re all hungry.” Tony placed a pizza on the table and sat back down in the seat he had before next to James. “Dig in, it won’t be hot for long.” Tony laughed as everyone around the table, save for himself and James, leaned forward to fight over slices of pizza. Tony turned to James, offering a gentle smile. “Feel free to help yourself, <em>Mi casa es su casa</em> as they say.”</p>
<p>James smiled back at Tony, taking a sip of his tea before answering. “I just ate about an hour ago, but I appreciate the offer. You have truly been so kind.”</p>
<p>Tony shrugged, grabbing a slice of pizza for himself from the now near-empty pizza stone. “It’s the least I could do. I’ve enjoyed getting to know you a bit better, and if having the opportunity to do that means I have to provide some tea and a chair at my table then I’m all in.”</p>
<p>James couldn’t hide how his cheeks grew red in that moment, but in a desperate attempt to he took a quick sip of his tea and glanced at the kids sitting at the other end of the table. They were in an argument about something called a “Lightsaber”, which he faintly recalled was from the movie Star Wars- but outside of that he had practically no context. The kids noticed that he was looking over, and Ned immediately brought him into the conversation.</p>
<p>“What do you think, Mr. James? Peter thinks that the white Lightsaber that Asoka carries is the best one because it’s the one that represents the character the best, MJ thinks the purple Lightsaber that Mace Windu carries is the best one because apparently the actor asked for it and the directors just <em>gave</em> it to him, and I think that the green Lightsaber is the best because it’s representative of their Jedi abilities.” Ned looked at James expectantly, and James eyes went wide. He knew the significance of the Star Wars franchise- that practically everyone in the world had seen one of the movies at some point in their life, or had at least known a little about the characters and plot- but he was once again at a loss.</p>
<p>James cleared his throat awkwardly, setting his cup of tea down on the table. “Um, to be honest, I don’t really know anything about Star Wars?” He cringed at the loud gasps of shock that came from the others at the table, fully expecting to be made fun of for this revelation.</p>
<p>“Ohmygosh this is the best thing EVER! Mr. James, I can show you <em>all</em> of the Star Wars movies! We can even watch one right after lunch! Would that be okay dad?” Peter’s excitement was a wave of relief to James. That relief grew even more, and was even joined by James’ <em>own</em> excitement, when the others around the table voiced their support of the idea. James looked to Tony, smiling cautiously.</p>
<p>Tony met James’ eyes, smiling wide at the man. He then turned to Peter. “Sure, kiddo. If James doesn’t mind, and if that’s how you want to spend your birthday, I think that would be a great idea!”</p>
<p>Peter nodded enthusiastically, turning to James. “Would you be okay with that Mr. James?”</p>
<p>James grinned at the boy, heart warm from the feeling of being instantly accepted by this tiny group of mostly-strangers. “Sure, Peter, it sounds like a lot of fun. It’s been on my “to watch” list for a while, but I haven’t gotten to it just yet. Also, you can just call me James, “Mr.” feels a bit too formal for me.” James winked at Peter, then took another sip of his tea. Ned and Peter cheered and began eating their food faster while MJ gave James an inquisitive look that, in any other circumstance would’ve raised his anxiety, but in this moment the intentions were clear enough that he was able to stay mostly calm- MJ didn’t want to know more about him to hold it against him, she clearly just wanted to know more about him because that was a part of her personality. She was inquisitive by nature.</p>
<p>James allowed himself to relax as he listened to Rhodey, Tony, the kids, and occasionally Pepper talk about which Star Wars movie to start with as they ate pizza, which didn’t make much sense to James- <em>wouldn’t you just start with the first one?</em> He was able to gather from the conversation that apparently there was a big argument about <em>which</em> movie was the “first one”, but the group was finally able to decide on “A New Hope” by the time everyone was finished with their food and James was finished with his tea.</p>
<p>              They migrated to the living room once the dishes were cleared, the kids taking a seat on pillows on the floor, Pepper taking a seat on a black recliner to the left of the couch, and Tony taking a seat on the center seat of the couch. Rhodey sat to Tony’s left so he was in-between Pepper and Tony, which left James only one option: to sit at Tony’s right. James carefully took a seat, smiling nervously at the group. Winter curled up next to James’ feet, resting his head against James’ right foot. Peter pressed a few buttons on a remote and the room fell silent, everyone, including James, getting sucked into the movie.</p>
<p>              To James, the 2 hours and 5 minutes went by in the blink of an eye. The movie was outstanding. He felt like he was pulled into adventures that only existed in his imagination, and he instantly wanted to watch more. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Tony nudged his side, smiling softly. “So? What’d you think?”</p>
<p>              James smiled wide, running his hand through his hair. “That was- it was… I mean that was probably the best thing I’ve ever seen! It felt like I blinked, and it was over… you said there were more movies? I would love to watch them some time.”</p>
<p>              Peter stood up across the room, practically bouncing with excitement. “There are a total of 9 series movies, two live-action movies that are within the universe, an animated series, and that’s just scratching the surface! I can’t wait for you to see the rest, this was one of the better pieces of the Star Wars Cinematic Universe, but in my opinion you haven’t even seen the best it has to offer yet!”</p>
<p>              James smiled at Peter, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I might need some guidance, that seems like a lot to keep track of.” He moved his hand to pet through Winter’s fur, mentally trying to work through the breathing exercises that Sam had provided for him.  He knew that Peter meant well, but the idea of taking in that much new information was a bit overwhelming.</p>
<p>              Peter bounced a bit on his heels, not noticing James’ discomfort because he was distracted by his excitement. “I can totally watch them with you, or at least give you a guide for how to watch them! I’ve been working on the perfect order for a little while now and I’ve been looking for the opportunity to refine it, this sounds like a great opportunity to do that-“</p>
<p>              “Peter,” Tony chimed in, smiling at his son, “Maybe we should wait on that? We’ve still got cake and presents to get a start on, James and you could talk about this a little later?” Tony caught James’ eyes, offering the man a gentle, reassuring smile. James smiled back at him, feeling a flutter of attraction at the pit of his stomach. Tony was so… <em>amazing? No, that wasn’t the right word…</em></p>
<p>              Peter grinned at the reminder of the gifts on the table, dropping the previous topic almost immediately. “Oh yeah! Dad, can we do cake and gifts now?”</p>
<p>              Tony smirked, still staring at James. His eyes crinkled, showing his amusement, before he turned back to Peter. <em>James noted, subconsciously, that he wanted to make Tony smile like that all of the time. </em>“Yeah buddy. I’ll grab the cake out of the kitchen.”</p>
<p>              Peter led the way to the dining room, Ned and MJ following behind him closely. They argued over which of their gifts Peter should open first, and Peter both seemed overwhelmed and thankful for the attention from his two friends. Rhodey and Pepper moved towards the dining room next, quietly talking about something that James couldn’t hear, but if their expressions revealed anything, it was that the conversation was positive. James got up last and moved toward the dining room, smiling at Winter who stayed asleep when James moved. He took the seat he was in before, quietly taking in the excited conversation that was filling the room. <em>It felt good. He felt… welcome? Again, not the right word. A word that felt right whispered at him from the back of his mind, why couldn’t he come up with it?</em> He came out of his mind when Tony walked in, carrying a red and blue cake. He set it in front of Peter and the table almost immediately broke out into cheers, which quickly turned into five different renditions of the song “Happy Birthday”.</p>
<p>              James laughed under his breath, trying to follow along with any of the song renditions, but mentally admitted to himself that he failed miserably, creating his own, jumbled version of all of the songs. The group laughed after Peter blew out the candles, and James made a mental note that, <em>apparently, not all failure had to feel bad</em>. Tony gave everyone a small slice of the white cake, laughing as Peter licked frosting off of the bottom of the “5” candle. James took his piece, distracted by Tony’s smile, and took a small bite, almost immediately melting at the flavor.</p>
<p>              Pepper caught his eye, her eyebrow raised at his expression. Her eye twinkled mischievously before she turned to Tony, a small smile on her face. “The cake is delicious, Tony.”</p>
<p>              Ned, MJ, Peter, and Rhodey all agreed around a mouthful of the cake, making Tony chuckle and grumble something about manners under his breath. James smiled when Tony sat down next to him, biting his lip. “She’s right. This is the best cake I’ve ever had. You’re <em>so</em> talented.”</p>
<p>              Tony blushed, ducking his head awkwardly. “Thanks, James. I’m glad you like it. I wouldn’t say it’s the best- but maybe I just need to get you some other treats to try.”</p>
<p>              James cleared his throat, licking his lips as he tried to distract himself from the various <em>and extremely inappropriate</em> places that his mind wandered. “That sounds nice.”</p>
<p>              Their conversation was cut off by MJ loudly declaring that she had won the bet (the bet, apparently, being who could eat their cake the fastest, and was held between herself and Ned) and that she had therefore won the honor of Peter opening her gift first. Peter laughed at her antics, his eyes full of joy. James looked at Tony, who was watching the interaction intently. James noted how proud he looked in that moment, and how his eyes betrayed how emotional the interaction had made him. <em>Had Peter had trouble making friends?</em> That seemed impossible, he was the kindest person that James had ever met.</p>
<p>Peter carefully pushed his half-finished cake to the side and took the square that MJ handed him with a grateful smile. He slowly unwrapped it, eyes going wide when he pulled all of the wrapping paper away. MJ shifted in her seat, an uncharacteristic smile on her face. “It’s us- Ned and You and Me, but I made us Han, Luke, and Leia. Since you dorks like those movies so much.”</p>
<p>Peter smiled, and if James looked closely, he could see his face flush with unshed tears. His voice was quiet when he spoke, his tone nothing but thankful. “Thank you, MJ. I love it.”</p>
<p>MJ’s smile grew and she rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, well, I guess I love you nerds or whatever.” She cleared her throat, expression changing back into the neutral one she had worn most of the day.</p>
<p>“My turn!” Ned shoved a gold bag at him, smiling excitedly. Peter took the tissue paper out and crumpled it up, then threw it at Ned playfully. Ned laughed, shoving the flying paper out of the way. James smiled at the interaction. If Peter had struggled with making friends before, he had certainly gotten some good ones now.</p>
<p>Peter pulled out a Lego set, a huge smile growing on his face. “Ned! An X-Wing fighter?! This is awesome!”</p>
<p>Ned smiled back. “I thought we could build it together, my dad and I picked it out at the Lego store. Oh! There’s one more thing.”</p>
<p>Peter looked at the bottom of the bag, pulling out a smaller box with three minifigures. His face looked shocked “Ned, you made minifigures of us?”</p>
<p>Ned laughed at that, nodding. “Yeah! That way we can fly the X-Wing rather than Luke.”</p>
<p>Peter smiled even wider, if that was possible, and hugged Ned. “Thank you! This is awesome.”</p>
<p>Rhodey was next, passing over the purple and yellow swirled bag that Rhodey had been carrying when James had first seen him in the hallway. Peter took it and removed the paper, eyes going wide. “Uncle Rhodey, thank you!” He took out what James interpreted to be one green DVD case after the other, ending up with a pile of about ten. “These are great! I’ve been saving my allowance money to buy an Xbox; I’ll have so many games to play once I get it!”</p>
<p>Pepper smirked. “Guess my gift is last.”</p>
<p>Peter smiled politely and tore the yellow bow off the giant box, then got to work on the wrapping paper. After the side closest to him was unwrapped Peter gasped, tearing the rest of the wrapping paper off quickly. “Aunt Pepper! You got me an Xbox?!”</p>
<p>Tony huffed out a laugh, turning to Pepper. He kept his voice quiet enough so that the kids who were freaking out over the gaming console wouldn’t hear. “That’s not the new clothes that we talked about.”</p>
<p>Pepper rolled her eyes at him, muttering under her breath. “I already put those in his closet, tags still on if they don’t fit. Gift receipts are in your P.O. box. It’s not everyday that I get to spoil him, let me do this.”</p>
<p>Tony smiled softly, getting pulled out of the conversation by Peter’s fast talking. “Dad, can Ned and MJ and I set this up and play some games?!”</p>
<p>Rhodey clapped his hands together then checked his watch. “I think I’ve got time for some tech support before I have to head back to the base.”</p>
<p>Tony chuckled, crossing his arms. “Alright, go ahead.”</p>
<p>The kids cheered and moved to the living room, MJ and Ned carrying the Xbox while Peter carried the games. Rhodey followed behind them, leaving James alone with Pepper and Tony. Pepper smiled at the interaction, turning back to Tony. “He’s just a kid in an adult body.”</p>
<p>Tony’s shoulders shook as he laughed. “Yeah, well, judging by his attitude I think Rhodey’s doing things the right way.” Tony stood up and started gathering plates. “I’m going to make myself a cup of coffee. Bear, Pep, can I get you two anything?”</p>
<p>              James’ eyes went wide at the nickname and he let out a soft laugh. Pepper smirked, turning to Tony, who apparently hadn’t noticed the slipup. “I’ll have a coffee, please.”</p>
<p>              James blushed, fingers fiddling with the edge of his shirt. “Could I have some more tea?”</p>
<p>              Tony grinned, carrying all of the trash from the table with ease. “You got it!”</p>
<p>              Tony returned fairly quickly, distributing the requested drinks, before he struck up a conversation with Pepper about <em>Iron Maiden’s</em> newest marketing strategy. James half-listened, happy to just sip his tea and be surrounded by people who had welcomed him into their lives suddenly and without question. Occasionally Tony or Pepper would make a comment that James would respond to, but they both were comfortable with however much James wanted to bring himself into the conversation, which gave James more freedom than he had experienced in a public space in years.</p>
<p>About thirty minutes into their conversation Rhodey came back to the dining room, rubbing his hands together. “I got the console all set up and they’re playing some Minecraft. I’ve got an early morning at the base, <em>again,</em> so I have to head out. I already said goodbye to the Kid and his friends, but I wanted to make sure I gave y’all a farewell too.”</p>
<p>Tony stood, pulling Rhodey into a tight hug. “Thanks for everything, Platypus.”</p>
<p>Rhodey pat Tony’s back, holding him close for a moment before he broke the hug. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Pepper’s cheek, muttering something to make the woman laugh, then straightened up. He reached his hand out towards James last. James cautiously took it, shaking it. “It was great to meet you, James.” Rhodey spoke, putting his hands in his pockets after he broke the handshake.</p>
<p>James nodded back to him. “Likewise.”</p>
<p>Rhodey smiled to the group. “I’m hoping to get some time off soon, I’ll let you know when, hopefully we can get together again.”</p>
<p>Tony grinned. “That would be great. I’ll walk you to the door?” Rhodey nodded and the two men walked off. Tony returned a few minutes later, a soft blush on his cheeks. He launched back into the previous discussion, blush slowly leaving his cheeks as the conversation went on. Pepper smiled knowingly throughout the conversation, shooting occasional glances at James. James decided to not think too much about it, figuring that he just wasn’t privy to some inside joke between the three.</p>
<p>Peter rushed in at about 5pm, practically bouncing up and down. “Mr. James! MJ and Ned want to go on a walk and we were wondering if we could bring Winter with us?”</p>
<p>James smiled at his excitement, nodding. “Sure, he doesn’t get much interaction other than anything I give him, I’m sure he’d love that.”</p>
<p>Peter grinned, going back to the living room. James chuckled at the loud “He said YES” that he heard come from the other room.</p>
<p>Pepper offered Tony a gentle smile, standing up. “I’ll go with them.” James didn’t miss how Tony had mouthed a “Thank You”, or how Pepper’s shoulders had straightened up protectively. James felt like there was something that he was missing, but he didn’t want to pry too hard and lose whatever this relationship was with this group.</p>
<p>James watched in silence as the teens left with Winter and Pepper, all chatting excitedly about where to go on their walk. James realized, very suddenly, once the door closed behind Pepper, that he and Tony had been left alone.</p>
<p>Tony smiled gently to him, awkwardly shifting into his seat. “I’m- um, really glad that you were in the hallway, James. You and Winter have definitely helped to make today even more fun for Peter, and, well, he doesn’t have a great history with his birthdays, so it really does mean a lot-“</p>
<p>James, in a movement that even surprised himself, put his hand over Tony’s, which was resting on the table. “Tony, I- I didn’t know this is how my day would be going, but honestly this is the best day I’ve ever remembered having.”</p>
<p>Tony blinked at that, clearly surprised. “My kid’s birthday was your best day ever.” His voice was suspicious, edging on deadpan, and James knew he fucked up.</p>
<p>James withdrew his hand, worrying his lip. “I- look, okay, I don’t like talking about this, but I want to explain it before it comes up some other way and fucks up whatever this is, because I <em>really</em> like this, it’s the first stability I’ve ever really had, and I just want to- ugh, I’m really not doing this well.”</p>
<p>Tony frowned, sitting back against his seat. “You don’t have to share something if you don’t want to.”</p>
<p>“No, I just- I do want to, I just don’t know how to say it.” He huffed, frustrated at himself, then launched into whatever messy explanation he could provide. “Okay. So, like I said earlier, I was honorably discharged from the military about two months ago. What I didn’t tell you was that-“ His breath hitched and he gripped the edge of his shirt in his hand. “-that was after two years of apparently being a prisoner of war” He sighed. “I-I don’t remember anything. Nothing from before, nothing from during. I can understand regular societal things, I’m a functional adult, but I mean, I don’t know how to use technology, I don’t remember anything about pop culture, I don’t know anything about my family outside of the facts, I’m completely alone and just trying to get through each day.”</p>
<p>Tony stared at him, taking a deep breath. He leaned forward and put his hand back on the table, clearly an offering of physical touch if James wanted it. James looked up to him, confused for a moment, then put his hand on Tony’s, relaxing, and continued. “I moved here about a month ago after I underwent extensive counseling and medical procedures. I go to counseling appointments at least once a week and I have my therapist on speed dial. The only life that I know is waking up without an arm, not knowing anything about myself or societal norms that everyone is supposed to know, making everybody else happy by faking my personality, and reliving the worst days of my life via nightmares that I can’t remember when I wake up. The one <em>good thing</em> has honestly been meeting you and Peter, and I completely understand if you want me to get out of your life, because it seems my whole life is negativity and bad luck, but I really hope you don’t because I haven’t been this happy-“</p>
<p>Tony’s hand tightened around James’, and James spared a glance up, eyes widening at Tony’s emotional expression and unshed tears. “James- I had no idea. Thank you for sharing with me, I can’t imagine what that feels like. Just know that- well, Peter and I haven’t had the best life either, and to be completely honest, Peter is obsessed with your dog and you’ve made me smile when few other things have.” He blushed, clearing his throat. “I- I don’t want to stop spending time with you, and I don’t think I’ll ever want that. Peter would kill me if I did, but to be fair I think I would hate myself just as much, if not more, than he would. Look, James, I don’t know what this is going to look like, but since I met you a few days ago, you haven’t left my mind and I just, I was wondering if- well, <em>canitakeyououttodinner</em>?”</p>
<p>James blinked in surprise, smiling softly at Tony’s anxiety. “Uhm, what?”</p>
<p>Tony groaned, burying his head in his hands. “Oh my god, I literally have the worst timing, you tell me your horribly traumatic life story and I ask you on a <em>date?!</em> I’m the worst.” Tony grumbled into his hands, shaking his head in disbelief.</p>
<p>James laughed, the noise sharp and full of joy. “You asked me on a date? To me it sounded like you were trying to speak a different language, darlin’.” James could see a blush spread on Tony’s neck and face through what small parts of his face that James could spot through Tony’s hands. He mentally made a note that nicknames were something that Tony enjoyed.</p>
<p>Tony cleared his throat awkwardly, running his hands through his hair. “I- uh, yeah, I was thinking maybe Italian food?”</p>
<p>James smiled. “Well, I don’t think I could pass that up. It’s a date.”</p>
<p>Tony grinned, fiddling with his hands nervously. “Oh wow, um, awesome, I’m really looking forward to it- uh, how does next Monday night sound? Like, not tomorrow, but a week from tomorrow? Monday is my prep day at the bakery and we’re normally done around 5pm, so maybe like 6:30pm? I don’t really drive, but there’s a really great Italian place a few blocks away that we could walk to-“</p>
<p>James leaned forward, putting his hand over Tony’s hands, which he was still fiddling with anxiously. Tony stopped at James’ touch and James grinned at him. “I’m sure that anything we do is gonna be perfect.”</p>
<p><em>And that was it, wasn’t it? That was the word that he wanted to use to describe Tony. Tony was perfect.</em> A few minutes later, when Peter came back into the apartment, practically bouncing up and down, and Winter was wagging his tail excitedly next to the boy while MJ and Ned argued about something called <em>Doctor Who</em> and Pepper watched with a look of amusement in her eye, James realized the other word he was missing earlier. <em>Home. This felt like home. </em> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>To make something clear: this is NOT the end!! I just wanted to leave it at a good stopping point and this felt right. I have a goal to update soon, but I'm not sure when and I can't make any promises. I do have a plan for this fic and I know where I want it to go, but I'm finishing my undergrad right now and life is hectic af.<br/>Also... I accidentally deleted my tumblr the other day. So, if you want to reach me/chat about this fic, please just leave a comment!<br/>Thank you all so much for reading. Your kudos and comments keep me going!! &lt;3 (Hopefully) talk soon.<br/>~M</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi all! Hope you liked what I've written. Again, please feel free to comment and let me know what you think! Also feel free to ask me anything on tumblr @marvel-ous-maniac. Comments and questions make me so happy! (So do kudos). </p><p>I hope you liked it! ~M</p></blockquote></div></div>
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